


Hold on Hope

by enigmaticblue



Series: A Sentinel and Guide in the SGC [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1, The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-19
Updated: 2011-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:09:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everyone believed Blair’s press conference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold on Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hc_bingo prompt "experiments by evil scientists." The title is from the Mumford & Sons song, "The Cave".

Blair walked into the bullpen to whistles and calls of approbation. “Way to go, Sandburg!” H called out.

 

Blair waved and collapsed into what had been Jim’s chair two months ago. Well, two months, one week, and four days, but who was counting?

 

Megan plopped herself down in the chair next to Jim’s desk, giving Blair a sharp, knowing look. “You don’t look like you’ve had any sleep at all.”

 

Blair shrugged. “I caught a few hours. I’m fine.”

 

“Jimbo would have flipped his lid if Simon had lent you out to Narcotics.”

 

Blair scowled, hating the reminder that Jim was gone; he had enough of those. “Yeah, well, Jim _isn’t_ here.”

 

Megan winced. “I’m sorry, Blair.” She reached out to put a hand on Blair’s arm. “Seriously, have you been sleeping at all?”

 

Blair knew better than to try to put Megan off when she was in this mood. “Nightmares,” he explained briefly. He’d been dreaming of the blue jungle ever since Jim had disappeared, always searching for a black panther, listening to its screams of pain, and never getting close. “And I feel like I’m being followed,” Blair added, almost as an afterthought.

 

Megan’s eyes widened. “What? How long?”

 

“The last couple of weeks,” Blair admitted.

 

“Shit!” she exclaimed. “When were you going to tell someone?”

 

“It’s probably my imagination,” Blair said dismissively. “I’m just being paranoid.”

 

“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean there aren’t people out to get you,” Megan quipped. “And after Jim—” She stopped, giving him a sharp look. “You want them to try.”

 

Blair sighed and shook his head. “No, I don’t, but I don’t have any proof. I haven’t _seen_ anybody. All I have is a feeling, and that’s not enough to take to Simon. I’m sure it’s lack of sleep and, you know. The usual.”

 

Wanting desperately to change the subject, Blair glanced over at Simon’s closed door. “What’s up with Simon, anyway?”

 

Megan grimaced, but she allowed the change in subjects. “A couple of suits came in here about an hour ago. They went straight into the captain’s office, and he closed the door and shut the blinds.”

 

Blair summoned up a smile. “So, he didn’t notice I was late, then.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Megan asked. “You’re the hero of the hour. I think you can afford to be a little late.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Tell the captain about being followed, Sandy.”

 

Blair was saved from having to respond when Simon’s door swung open and he hollered, “Sandburg! My office!”

 

Megan patted Blair on the shoulder sympathetically. “Good luck,” she whispered.

 

“Yeah,” Blair muttered and went to join Simon. “Hey, Captain.”

 

Simon stepped aside to let Blair enter. “I hear congratulations are in order, Sandburg,” he began. “Captain Kubek tells me you’re to be commended.”

 

Blair snuck a curious look at the man and woman already seated in Simon’s office. “Uh, thanks.”

 

Blair turned his attention back to Simon, whose smile reminded Blair of a cat about to pounce. “With that out of the way, let me make the introductions. Sandburg, this is Major Samantha Carter of the Air Force, and Dr. Daniel Jackson. This is Detective Blair Sandburg.”

 

As a student of people, Blair catalogued what he saw fairly quickly. The woman was pretty, blonde, and sharply dressed. Dr. Jackson looked like an academic in glasses and a tweed jacket. Blair thought Jackson’s name and face were familiar, but he couldn’t place him.

 

Blair shook their hands. “Nice to meet you both.”

 

“You, too,” Dr. Jackson said for both of them.

 

Simon cleared his throat, bringing Blair’s attention back to him. “But before I let Major Carter and Dr. Jackson explain their presence here, I have a question, and I expect you to answer honestly, Sandburg.”

 

Blair nodded. “Yes, sir.”

 

“ _When_ were you going to tell me you were being followed?” Simon demanded.

 

Blair hadn’t been expecting that question, and his exhaustion made it impossible for him to keep the surprise off his face. He knew he’d given himself away when Simon’s eyes narrowed. “Ah…” Blair began.

 

“No lying, no obfuscating, just the unvarnished truth,” Simon said, his tone cool and polite, which Blair knew was a really bad sign.

 

Blair sighed. “Megan made me promise to tell you today. I didn’t have any real evidence. It was just a sixth sense.”

 

“Well, now we have proof,” Simon replied, nodding at the two guests. “Major?”

 

“We believe that a rogue cell of one of our intelligence agencies kidnapped Detective Ellison and is now interested in you,” Major Carter explained. “We aren’t sure why yet, although having read your dissertation, we can guess.”

 

“I faked my results,” Blair said automatically. “My dissertation was a fraud.”

 

Dr. Jackson smiled slightly. “Yeah, that might work for most people, but not for us. We know better.”

 

“Blair,” Simon said quietly. “Listen to them.”

 

Blair took a deep breath. “Okay, fine. No offense, but so what? What do they want with me or Jim?”

 

“That’s on a need to know basis,” Major Carter replied. “But we can fill you in if you accept our offer of protective custody.”

 

Blair shook his head emphatically. “No. No way. I go underground like that, and I have no chance of finding my partner. I’m not going to sit on my hands and wait for somebody else to rescue him.”

 

“Sandburg,” Simon began. “I think it might be smart to accept the offer. From what they’ve said—”

 

“Do you know where Jim is?” Blair demanded, cutting Simon off, too worried and angry to care whose toes he was stepping on.

 

“Not yet,” Dr. Jackson replied. “But we’re close.”

 

Blair’s jaw tightened. “Fine, great. I want to be there when you do find him. That’s the only way I’ll agree to protective custody.”

 

“Detective Sandburg, we can’t promise that,” Major Carter said.

 

“Call me Blair,” he said, using the same charm he employed whenever he was going after something he really wanted. “And I think you can.”

 

“Blair,” Dr. Jackson started. “I know you want to be with us when we locate your friend—”

 

“Partner,” Blair corrected him.

 

“Partner,” Dr. Jackson agreed. “But this is a classified mission.”

 

Blair snorted. “Look, you might have read my dissertation, but you don’t know Jim. You don’t know what they’ve done to him, or what condition he’ll be in when you find him. And like it or not, I’m the expert on Sentinels.”

 

Major Carter and Dr. Jackson exchanged a meaningful look, and Blair could see the connection between them. That kind of unspoken communication was only achieved through a long relationship, and was usually forged under fire.

 

“You can handle a weapon,” Major Carter finally said. “Can you follow orders?”

 

Blair grinned, knowing that the battle was half-won. “Sure.”

 

Simon made a sound behind him, but he didn’t say anything other than, “He _can_ follow orders.”

 

“Then I think we can agree to those terms,” Major Carter replied.

 

Blair looked at Simon. “Captain?”

 

“I loaned you to Narcotics. I can loan you to the United States Air Force,” Simon grumbled. He came around the desk to clasp Blair’s shoulder. “Bring him home, Blair.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” Blair promised. “And before you ask, I’ll keep you in the loop.”

 

Simon shook him a bit. “You’d better, or your ass will be grass.”

 

Blair grinned. “Yes, sir.”

 

~~~~~

 

Blair Sandburg wasn’t quite what Sam had expected. Honestly, she wasn’t sure _what_ she’d expected from an academic turned police detective, but Blair was still something of a surprise.

 

She and Daniel had taken a taxi from the airport, and Blair offered to give them a ride. “I need to get some things,” he said. “When did you want to leave?”

 

“As soon as possible,” Sam replied. “We have a private jet waiting.”

 

Blair’s eyes widened. “Really?”

 

Daniel smiled reassuringly. “Really. We didn’t want to take any chances.”

 

“Okay,” Blair said. “You can follow me back to my place if you have a car. Otherwise, I can give you guys a lift.”

 

“We took a taxi from the airport,” Sam replied. “So, we’ll ride with you and call for a car to pick us up at your place.”

 

In spite of Blair’s apparent exhaustion, he kept pushing for details during the drive to his place with the kind of dogged enthusiasm that reminded Sam of Daniel. He asked questions about Ellison, and what they knew, and who was behind this mess, but finally subsided when Sam and Daniel insisted they couldn’t give details before he’d signed the nondisclosure agreement.

 

They followed Blair up to the apartment he shared with Ellison, and Blair led them inside. Sam had half-expected to find out that Blair and Ellison were sleeping together, but when they entered, she saw the loft above their heads, and Blair disappeared into a small room under the stairs.

 

She exchanged a look with Daniel, who shrugged. “Not what I expected either,” he murmured _sotto voce._

 

Sam pulled out her cell phone and checked her messages while Daniel wandered around examining the artifacts that hung on the walls and lined the shelves. Blair moved frenetically from his bedroom to the bathroom and back again.

 

Blair emerged from his room twenty minutes later with a duffel bag and a backpack. “I don’t have much,” he explained briefly. “And I’m assuming this won’t take too long.”

 

Sam glanced at Daniel, who winced. “We can’t guarantee that, Detective Sandburg.”

 

“Blair,” he insisted. “I’m used to packing light. As long as I’ve got access to laundry facilities, I’ll be fine.”

 

“That we can promise,” Daniel said.

 

Blair shrugged. “All right then. I’m ready.”

 

Sam glanced around the loft, seeing all the artifacts on the walls and pretty much every flat surface. It reminded her of Daniel’s apartment, in a way. That was probably why the loft felt so homey.

 

“Okay, let’s get moving. There’s transport waiting for us.” Sam led the way to the SUV the car service had sent, a little surprised at how well this mission had gone. Granted, General Hammond and Colonel O’Neill wouldn’t be happy that they’d basically given Blair a spot on the mission, but Sam didn’t think there was another choice, and Blair did have a point.

 

From the data she’d read, Ellison would do better with a familiar presence on the rescue team, and they couldn’t afford to let Blair get captured.

 

If Blair was kidnapped, Sam didn’t think they’d even have a shot at finding him or Ellison, and if the NID figured out how Sentinels worked, and if they could create more…

 

Well, Sam was pretty sure it would be bad news. It would mean the NID had managed to do what the Goa’uld had been attempting—creating a super-soldier. The NID might want the perfect weapon, and the Goa’uld might want a better host, but the result would likely be the same.

 

And any way she looked at it, whether it was the NID or the Goa’uld, the Sentinels under their control would be enslaved.

 

Besides, _if_ the NID unlocked the secrets of how to turn someone into a Sentinel, or how to find those Sentinels already in existence, she would hate to leave that knowledge in their hands.

 

The SGC jet was waiting for them at the Cascade airport, and although Blair’s eyes went wide as he looked around the interior, he didn’t say anything other than, “Nice plane.”

 

“It gets us where we need to go,” Sam replied.

 

Blair shrugged and hovered at the front until Sam and Daniel had taken their seats. He chose one across the aisle from them, next to the window. “Okay, you guys really aren’t going to answer my questions, are you?” he asked with wry humor.

 

Sam shook her head. “Sorry, not until you sign the nondisclosure agreement.”

 

“And you wouldn’t happen to have that with you?” Blair asked.

 

“It’s back at the base,” Sam replied.

 

Blair grimaced. “Okay, I can’t believe I haven’t asked yet, but where are we going?”

 

“Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorado Springs,” Sam replied. “I should have said something sooner.”

 

“Not like it makes any difference to me,” Blair replied candidly. “As long as the road leads to Jim, I don’t care where we are between now and then.”

 

Blair fell asleep as soon as the plane reached cruising altitude, and Sam leaned in close to Daniel. “What do you think?”

 

Daniel shrugged. “He and Jim are close, probably for the same reasons we’re close. Blair is intelligent enough not to be satisfied with the usual pat answers, and he’s stubborn enough to keep digging if we don’t fill him in.”

 

“Do you think it’s worth it?” Sam asked.

 

“The guy scuttled his academic career to protect his friend,” Daniel pointed out. “I think he can keep a secret.”

 

Sam nodded. “I hope you’re right about that.”

 

Daniel grinned. “I’m always right, Sam.”

 

“So you say.”

 

~~~~~

 

Jim wasn’t sure he knew which way was up anymore. The first few days he’d been held, he’d steadfastly refused to cooperate—and then they’d threatened to go after Sandburg if he refused to go along with their tests. That had been enough to convince Jim to do what they asked.

 

He couldn’t stand even the thought of Sandburg being here, at the mercy of the men in their white coats and rubber-soled shoes. He hated the idea of his partner’s boundless energy trapped inside four walls, behind locked doors and small, barred windows.

 

And if they ever did capture Blair, Jim knew he’d do anything they wanted, and the possibilities were endless now that they knew he was a Sentinel.

 

He’d waited for a chance to escape, but his captors were good. The room he was kept in was secured at all times; he was always in restraints if he wasn’t in his room. They’d taken away everything that he might have used as a weapon before he’d even woken up.

 

After the first couple of weeks, at least so far as he could count time, they stopped the sensory tests. Instead, they took endless blood samples, and injected him with a variety of drugs.

 

Jim had no idea what they were trying to prove, or what they were trying to do. He didn’t think he was much use to them, strung out as he was, his senses either spiking or gone completely. He couldn’t get a handle on the dials, and he couldn’t concentrate for more than a few minutes at a time. It was like how things had been during the Switchman case, before Sandburg had been able to help him, but worse.

 

Jim knew that control was possible now, the way he hadn’t known at the time, and not to have that hard-won control was beyond frustrating. If they’d wanted to prevent his escape, they were doing a damn fine job; otherwise, Jim had no idea what their goals were.

 

He felt like a hamster on a fucking wheel—stuck, going nowhere, with no idea what they wanted or how to give it to them even if he did know.

 

The only time he got a respite was when he was asleep, dreaming of the blue jungle, listening to a wolf howl.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack leaned back in his chair and studied Blair Sandburg with a critical eye. He didn’t much like the thought of including an unknown civilian on a mission, even if that civilian was a cop. Sandburg looked like a man running on fumes, but his eyes showed a keen intelligence.

 

Sandburg had grimaced when presented with the nondisclosure agreement, but he hadn’t done more than skim it before signing. He just pushed it across the table to General Hammond and glanced around the table. “Okay, so what’s going on with Jim? And how is the Air Force involved?”

 

Jack let Hammond give the spiel about evil aliens, the Stargate, and other planets; he kept his eyes on Sandburg to gauge his reaction.

 

“Okay, so, aliens,” Sandburg said slowly. “You know, I’ve seen some pretty weird stuff over the years, so I’m going to go with this. What I still don’t get is what this has to do with Jim.”

 

“There’s a rogue element of one of our intelligence agencies that’s interested in anything to help us with our fight against the Goa’uld,” Hammond explained. “And they’ll use any means necessary to gain those advantages.”

 

Sandburg frowned and rubbed his eyes. “And any means necessary means kidnapping Jim, because what? They think he’ll work for them?”

 

“We think they’re trying to isolate the gene that controls his Sentinel abilities so they can turn it on in other people,” Sam said quietly. “As well as finding a means to identifying other Sentinels.”

 

Sandburg stared at her in disbelief. “That’s impossible. Gene sequencing takes _years_ of work, and this kind of gene therapy isn’t possible.”

 

“You think _that’s_ impossible, but you don’t have any trouble believing in aliens?” Jack asked in disbelief.

 

Sandburg shrugged. “You’re talking about serious DNA manipulation. The technology for that isn’t available yet.”

 

“It’s not available on _Earth_ ,” Daniel corrected him.

 

Sandburg swallowed hard. “Okay, fair point. So, do you know where he is?”

 

“We’re working on it, son,” Hammond replied. “But we had reason to believe that they were targeting you next, and we wanted to be sure you were protected.”

 

“Why me?” Sandburg demanded. “There’s nothing special about me.”

 

“Let me ask you something,” Jack said. “What would Detective Ellison do if they got their hands on you?”

 

Sandburg paled and glanced away. “I don’t know.” He sighed. “Probably anything they asked.”

 

“I read your dissertation,” Daniel said. “You said a Sentinel needed a guide, someone to watch his back.”

 

Sandburg shrugged. “Sure, but anybody can do that job.”

 

“Maybe they don’t think so,” Jack said.

 

“How do I know what they’re thinking?” Sandburg demanded. “Look, I want to be cool about this. I really do. But my head’s kind of spinning right now, and I’m not sure what you want from me.”

 

“We want to protect you,” Hammond replied gently. “And we’d like to find your partner.”

 

Sandburg nodded. “Right. I’m sorry, sir. It’s just been a long couple of months.”

 

“Of course. Why don’t you get some rest? We’ve got base quarters set aside for you. We’ll have another briefing with more information tomorrow. For right now, I’d ask that you not wander around the base unescorted,” Hammond said.

 

Sandburg ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Yes, sir.”

 

He followed the airman out of the conference room. Hammond waited until the door closed behind them and there was no chance of being overheard before asking, “Impressions?”

 

Jack glanced at Daniel. “You were the one who studied his dissertation, Daniel.”

 

“Well, his background indicates that he’s highly intelligent,” Daniel began. “His dissertation demonstrates an in-depth understanding of his subject, and of Sentinels in general. The fact that he denied his work gives a pretty clear picture of how close he and Ellison are.”

 

“And the theory that there are more Sentinels out there?” Hammond asked.

 

Daniel shrugged. “We know of two, based on his dissertation. It stands to reason there are more, and Blair _is_ the expert.”

 

“What about these guides?” Hammond asked. “ _Can_ anyone do the job?”

 

Daniel shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea, General. But the NID apparently decided that Blair has knowledge that can help them, that he’s important for some reason, or that they can use him against Ellison.”

 

Hammond nodded. “Very well. Major Carter, I want you to expend all reasonable efforts to find Detective Ellison. I don’t want to leave him in the hands of the NID one moment longer than we have to.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Carter said.

 

“Dismissed.” Hammond rose from the table and walked out to do whatever it was he did in between briefings and debriefings and emergencies.

 

Carter and Daniel headed out, and Jack glanced at Teal’c, who had been characteristically silent during the briefing. “I gotta go talk to Daniel.”

 

“Go,” Teal’c replied.

 

Jack jogged to catch up with his teammates. “Hey, guys.”

 

“Yeah, Jack?” Daniel asked, a trace of impatience in his voice.

 

“Yes, sir?” Carter was, as always, appropriately deferential.

 

“I need a better feel for Sandburg,” Jack said. “Maybe you can check him out.”

 

Daniel and Carter exchanged looks that were equal parts amused and exasperated. “Why us?” Daniel asked.

 

“Because you were the ones to invite him along when we locate Ellison,” Jack said with a smug grin. “And he’s a geek.”

 

Daniel frowned. “Blair does have a point, Jack. Ellison was kidnapped by people who are nominally part of the government. It’s entirely possible that he’ll fight us when we rescue him. Having a familiar face on the team could help.”

 

Jack shrugged. “So what? We could always zat Ellison and carry him out. The point is, I don’t know Sandburg, and I’m a little wary of having someone I don’t know accompany us into a volatile situation.”

 

“I’m not going to spy for you,” Daniel objected.

 

“You can tell him exactly what you’re doing,” Jack replied. “Just—get a feel for him, Danny.”

 

Daniel and Carter looked at each other again, and this time, Jack couldn’t read their expressions; he hated it when they did that sort of thing.

 

“He’ll probably want dinner,” Daniel offered. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not going to make any promises.”

 

“There aren’t any promises in this line of work,” Jack said soberly. “Carter? You’re tracking these goons?”

 

“On it, sir,” she replied.

 

Daniel shook his head. “I’ll invite him to dinner, Jack. The rest will be up to him.”

 

“That’s all I’m asking,” Jack assured him.

 

Daniel could get just about anyone to talk to him; Jack wasn’t worried.

 

~~~~~

 

Blair punched the pillow on his relatively comfortable bed. He hadn’t been quite sure what to expect, since he was technically in protective custody, but the quarters were large enough not to feel like a cell, and there was a separate, en suite bathroom. He’d had every intention of getting some sleep, but his mind was racing, and he couldn’t seem to relax.

 

“Jim, man, I really wish you were here,” Blair whispered.

 

He and Jim had been roommates for almost five years, and official partners for one year, when Jim had disappeared. Blair had gone off for a weekend with Naomi to reconnect, and had returned to an answering machine full of increasingly panicked messages from Simon.

 

Jim had disappeared without a trace, and Blair missed him more than he could say. The irony was that Blair wanted to talk this current situation over with him, but he wouldn’t be _in_ this situation if Jim hadn’t been kidnapped.

 

Over two months with no leads, and now Blair found himself hundreds of feet underground, waiting for the fucking _Air Force_ to somehow locate his partner.

 

And all Blair wanted was _Jim_ ; Blair wanted to ask him what he thought about signing a nondisclosure agreement, and what he thought about aliens and the silent guy with the weird tattoo on his forehead.

 

Blair curled up, his arm over his face, blinking the moisture out of his eyes. He was so fucking tired, and he missed Jim so fucking much.

 

Blair wanted his best friend back.

 

He buried his face in his pillow. Even though he was exhausted, Blair didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. He was hungry, but he didn’t want to brave the guard at the door. He was pretty sure he could ask for a meal, and someone would bring it, but Blair didn’t want to ask.

 

For whatever reason, Blair didn’t want to give these people any sign of weakness.

 

He was still trying to sleep when a sharp knock came at his door. “Detective Sandburg, Dr. Jackson is here to see you,” said the airman.

 

Blair was grateful that they asked him first before allowing Dr. Jackson to come in. That told him that they were at least sort of serious about him being a guest, instead of a prisoner. “Yeah, let him in,” he called, hoping that none of his emotional turmoil showed on his face.

 

Jackson stepped inside a few seconds later. “Not bad. There are worse quarters.”

 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Blair asked.

 

Jackson shrugged. “Not really. I thought I’d see if you wanted dinner.”

 

Blair hesitated. “Yeah, I could eat,” he admitted.

 

“The commissary isn’t too bad,” Jackson replied. “If you’re interested.”

 

“Well, I _am_ hungry,” Blair admitted.

 

Jackson jerked his head towards the door “Come on, then.”

 

Blair was still a little wary. He had some of the facts—he knew who had kidnapped Jim, and why, and he’d been promised that he could be there when they got Jim out. Blair had no idea what he was supposed to do in the meantime, however. At least in Cascade, he’d had work to keep him occupied when he wasn’t trying to run down leads on Jim’s whereabouts.

 

And he’d been _home_ —although Jim’s absence had sometimes made that feel more like a curse than a blessing.

 

In any case, Blair was grateful that Jackson had provided him with a distraction, no matter how short lived. The menu was limited, but the food looked pretty good, although Blair opted for the less ambitious spaghetti and meatballs rather than the lemon chicken.

 

“I feel like I should warn you that I’m here by Colonel O’Neill’s request,” Jackson said. “He doesn’t like the idea of taking a stranger along on a mission.”

 

Blair could appreciate the honesty. “What do you want to know?” he asked, digging into his meal, which had nothing on Jim’s special sauce, but was at least palatable.

 

“What do you want to tell me?” Jackson countered.

 

Blair suddenly remembered why Jackson’s name and face seemed so familiar. “Wait! You’re _that_ Dr. Jackson, the one who claimed the pyramids were built by aliens.”

 

Jackson winced. “You heard about that?”

 

Blair grinned. “Well, I went on a couple of digs as an undergrad while I was still making up my mind between archaeology and anthropology. Besides, it was the kind of story that made the rounds—a rising star comes up with a crackpot theory like aliens building the pyramids, and then disappears.”

 

“Damn, I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Jackson asked ruefully.

 

“Hey, but you were proven right,” Blair pointed out, waving a hand at their surroundings. “You’re visiting alien planets, getting new insights into ancient civilizations—you can’t beat that.”

 

Jackson raised his eyebrows. “Does knowing you’re right help you?”

 

“Being right was never the issue for me,” Blair replied softly. “It was always about Jim.”

 

“And that’s why you’re doing this,” Jackson replied.

 

Blair sighed. “Look, I can give you a rundown of all the reasons I should be there, and it would all be true. Jim will respond better to me, and I’m the best person to help him get his senses under control if he’s spiking or zoning. He won’t trust you, but he’ll trust me, and it will be a lot easier to get him out if he’s functional and cooperative.”

 

“But?” Jackson prompted.

 

“But in the end, I just know that I _have_ to go,” Blair replied. “There’s nothing in this world that’s as important to me as Jim, and I need to be there when you get him out.”

 

Jackson nodded. “Trust me, I get that.”

 

“Then you’ll tell Colonel O’Neill I’m good to go?” Blair asked.

 

“You know, he wasn’t all that happy about me or Carter being on the team, so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

 

“So, who should I worry about?”

 

“I wouldn’t,” Jackson replied with a smile. “General Hammond has already made the call.”

 

~~~~~

 

Jim wasn’t sure how much longer he could hang on. He’d started to think seriously about alternatives, knowing he could probably kill himself with the scrub pants he was wearing, or maybe he could induce a zone. If he went deep enough, they might never get him out of it.

 

Either way, Jim thought, it meant giving up, and he wasn’t _quite_ there yet. If he could get his senses under control for long enough, and if he could catch a break, Jim knew he could escape.

 

But the thought of ending it all comforted him in a way. He could take himself beyond their grasp, of his own free will. Jim had to admit that he appreciated at least the illusion of control.

 

The door to his cell opened, and his captors shone a light directly into his face. Jim jerked his head away, trying to shield his eyes, but it was too late. He saw afterimages and spots, and his head pounded with an incipient migraine. By the time he got his spiking eyesight under control, the guards had him restrained and halfway to the lab.

 

He was strapped down before he could summon the ability to fight back, but he struggled his bonds anyway. One of the doctors approached with a syringe, injecting something else into his veins—just one more drug in a long series.

 

Jim’s hearing was the one sense under his control, and he strained to listen, trying to get a better picture of what was going on.

 

“Sandburg has disappeared,” Jim heard, although he couldn’t tell who was speaking. “Last we heard, he’s with the SGC. There’s no way we’ll get to him now.”

 

“Fuck,” came the response. “Okay, we’ll get what we can out of Ellison, and then we’ll kill him and dump the body. But we need the results of this test first, and I want to run one more if this does what we expected.”

 

Jim held back a sigh of relief, grateful that Blair was apparently safe. As long as Blair didn’t wind up here, Jim thought he could face death without a single qualm.

 

Then his sight was completely gone, and Jim was literally in the dark.

 

~~~~~

 

Sam blinked and rubbed her eyes. She’d run investigations in the past, but she wasn’t used to searching for a missing person. Give her a piece of technology—alien or Earth-based—and Sam could figure it out, no problem. If they’d known where Ellison was, she could help O’Neill formulate a tactical plan to get him out.

 

But _finding_ Ellison was like finding a needle in a haystack. Sam had gone through the data again and again, and she felt like she was missing something big. This was the kind of job best left to intelligence analysts; Sam preferred equations and clean science to the rumors and shadows she was currently chasing.

 

What she _really_ needed was a fresh pair of eyes, but Daniel was working with SG-9 on translating tablets on a set of ruins because they thought it might lead to a weapons cache that could be used against the Goa’uld. Teal’c had offered to help her, but Sam wasn’t sure what he could do. O’Neill was hard at work with Colonel Barnes of SG-4 to plan an attack on a Goa’uld stronghold.

 

In fact, everyone at the SGC was dealing with the threat from the Goa’uld and the Replicators right now; Sam knew she couldn’t justify calling anyone off their current project to locate one man, no matter how deserving of their help he might be.

 

“Carter?” O’Neill called, poking his head into her lab. Apparently, he’d finished with his meeting. “How’s it coming?”

 

“I don’t know, sir,” she admitted. “I feel like we have all the information, but I can’t make heads or tails of it. I’m missing something, and I need a fresh set of eyes, but there isn’t anyone I can call in right now.”

 

O’Neill raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying you need a detective?”

 

“That would be nice,” Sam admitted ruefully, and then she straightened. “General Hammond would need to clear it. Blair hasn’t been cleared for access to all of this information.”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” O’Neill promised. “He isn’t doing anything else right now, and he’ll probably jump at the chance to help. Besides, I think Hammond’s taken a shine to him.”

 

Sam smiled. “It’s pretty easy to do. He’s committed to getting his friend back, and he’s sharp.”

 

O’Neill nodded. “Let’s hope he can help, because I can imagine all sorts of things that the NID could do with the information on Sentinels, and I don’t like it.”

 

Sam tilted her head back and closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure how long it would take O’Neill to get permission, but she didn’t think it would hurt if she relaxed for a bit. She drifted off, and woke up when she heard a quick knock on the door.

 

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and smiled when she saw Blair in the doorway. “Hey. Did Colonel O’Neill tell you?”

 

“He said you might need my help,” Blair replied diffidently. “If you don’t mind.”

 

“Mind?” Sam asked incredulously. “Please. I think we have the information we need, but it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

 

Blair smiled. “That’s one of my specialties, Major Carter.”

 

“Please, just Sam,” she replied, and pushed back from the computer. “All the information we’ve gathered is here. Feel free to access whatever you like.”

 

Blair took the second stool in her lab, and he rolled it in front of the computer. “Thanks,” he said briefly. “I really appreciate the opportunity to get involved.”

 

“I need another set of eyes,” Sam admitted. “And honestly, no one else is available.”

 

Blair shrugged. “I was going stir crazy. This helps.”

 

“Then I’m happy to provide something for you to do.” Sam waved at the computer. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

 

Blair pulled a pair of glasses out of his pocket and began reading the information, while Sam turned her attention to the specs for a piece of alien tech discovered off-world. For the moment, she had a respite, and she was grateful for it. Sam relished the opportunity to go back to her strong suit.

 

~~~~~

 

Blair had been incredibly grateful when O’Neill approached him with a request that he help Major Carter. He’d been plenty patient, waiting for them to find Jim, reading the few books he’d stashed in his duffel before he left.

 

He’d wanted to demand that they let him help, but he’d known instinctively that he had to wait to be asked. Blair couldn’t just barge in, no matter how much he wanted to.

 

And now, Blair had all the information that he hadn’t been able to access in Cascade. No matter how deeply Jack Kelso had dug, no matter what contacts Blair had exploited, he hadn’t been able to get a handle on who or what had kidnapped Jim.

 

Blair would do anything he could to find Jim, and to get him back. _Anything_.

 

And this was what Blair had always been good at—gathering the pieces and putting them together, coming up with a picture that made sense.

 

Blair muttered an absentminded thanks when someone put a sandwich by his right elbow, but he was too deep into the zone to look up. When Sam rolled her chair up next to him with a fresh cup of coffee, Blair leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Thanks.”

 

“Anything?”

 

“That depends on what you mean by ‘anything,’” Blair replied. “I found lots of that, but I’m not sure I have any solid leads. Tell me about the NID.”

 

Sam sighed. “The NID is a legitimate organization, even if it is a pain in our collective asses most of the time.”

 

“But?” Blair prompted.

 

“But there’s a rogue element, and since it’s a shadow organization, it’s hard to get anything solid.” She grimaced. “As you can see.”

 

Blair pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “Where have these guys holed up in the past?”

 

“They tend to go off the grid. But I don’t think there’s any way they could have taken Ellison off-world, which narrows our options.”

 

Blair barked out a short laugh that held no humor. “Great. They’re still on the planet. That really narrows down the search.”

 

“Sorry,” she apologized.

 

“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have snapped.” He took a sip of coffee. “So, let’s run this down. They’re still on the planet. Are we assuming they’re still in the country?”

 

Sam nodded. “It’s an American organization first and foremost.”

 

“Okay, so they’ve got a prisoner, someone they’re holding by force,” Blair said, thinking out loud. “They’re going to need a location where that’s either not going to be noticed, or where it’s normal.”

 

“Where could they keep someone that a kidnapping victim is normal?” Sam asked incredulously.

 

Blair shrugged. “A mental hospital?”

 

“Or an _abandoned_ mental institution or hospital,” Sam said, perking up. “A place with medical facilities, labs, equipment. They wouldn’t have to start from scratch that way, and there would already be locked rooms they could use.”

 

“But where?” Blair demanded. “They could be in any state.”

 

“We have hot spots, though,” Sam replied. “We have places we know they operate, places we know they may have more control.”

 

Blair grinned. “Let’s narrow it down, then.”

 

The ideas went back and forth, and Blair felt truly jazzed for the first time since Jim had disappeared. Even with the gang from Major Crimes, Blair had just felt as though he was treading water, waiting for Jim to get back. Now, he felt like he was actually making progress, like he might actually get what he wanted.

 

Blair felt a surge of hope for the first time in months.

 

“Wait, wait, here!” Sam said triumphantly. “There was a mental hospital on state land in Idaho that was sold off in the last six months.”

 

Blair looked over her shoulder. “Who bought it?”

 

“It was a defense contractor,” Sam replied. “But it was someone who had a relationship with Neumann, who was involved with the rogue operation.”

 

Blair liked the sound of that. “How close of a relationship?”

 

“It’s a cousin,” Sam replied. “Distant enough, but—”

 

“Worth checking out,” Blair finished for her. “It’s the best lead we have right now. What do we do next?”

 

“We call the general, and we wait for orders,” Sam replied, a hint of apology in her voice. “We’ll probably send an advance team to get as much intel as we can before we go in.”

 

Blair didn’t like the sound of that. “How long is that going to take?”

 

“I don’t know, but we’re going to move on this as fast as we can,” Sam assured him. “Look, I’m going to call Colonel O’Neill. He’ll call the general, and we’ll start putting a plan together. The best thing you can do right now is get some sleep. We’ll haul you out of bed if we need to.”

 

He sighed, knowing she was right, and then asked, “You won’t let Colonel O’Neill leave me behind?”

 

“Cross my heart,” Sam replied with a smile.

 

“Okay, then I guess I’ll get some sleep,” Blair replied.

 

He went to his quarters, but sleep was hard to come by. He tossed and turned, knowing that he should sleep, but the pressure of _needing_ sleep wasn’t helping him relax. When he finally did drop off, Blair dreamed of the blue jungle again.

 

But this time, Blair couldn’t hear the panther at all.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack stared at the blueprints on the screen, beginning to formulate a tactical incursion. “I’ll need at least two other teams,” he said. “We’ll do some recon, and then go in using stealth. Once we have Ellison, we’ll call in the other teams and hit them hard.”

 

“Are you certain this is the right place?” Hammond asked.

 

Jack pointed towards the satellite photos. “These images were taken two days ago. Once we had a better idea of where Ellison was, it was easier to isolate the chatter about his location. Homeland Security had been keeping an eye on these guys because of their defense contracts, so we have good intel.”

 

Jack pointed out the structures and the trucks around the east wing of the old hospital. “We think Ellison is here, since all of the traffic is on this side of the building.”

 

Hammond nodded. “Very well. I can give you SG-5 and SG-7.”

 

“And a few Marines?” Jack asked hopefully.

 

Hammond smiled. “I can send a few Marines, yes. Is that all you’ll need?”

 

“Yeah, probably.” Jack grinned. “Do we have a go?”

 

Hammond nodded. “You have a go. You’re going to take Detective Sandburg?”

 

“He’s earned a spot on the team,” Jack admitted reluctantly. “And I imagine Ellison will appreciate a familiar face.”

 

“Then take him,” Hammond replied. “And keep him safe.”

 

“Of course,” Jack replied.

 

“I’ll make the call,” Hammond replied. “You’ll rouse your team?”

 

Jack nodded. “We’ll be ready to head out in half an hour, and I’ll brief them en route.”

 

“You have a go, Colonel,” Hammond ordered.

 

Jack nodded. “Good enough. I’ll grab my team.”

 

“Good luck, Jack,” Hammond replied. “Bring everyone back safely.”

 

“I’ll do my best, sir,” he promised. “And I’ll keep you updated.”

 

Hammond nodded. “Do that.”

 

Jack knew he could have asked Sam or Daniel to rouse Sandburg, but Jack was going past Sandburg’s quarters, and Jack figured if he wasn’t on the ball, he could leave Sandburg behind.

 

But when Jack knocked on the door, Sandburg opened it immediately, looking rumpled and weary. “Are we going?”

 

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Do you have a weapon?”

 

“My service revolver,” Sandburg replied. “What should I wear?”

 

“Have you been given a uniform?” When Sandburg nodded, Jack said, “Wear that. I’d rather you blend in on this operation. You’ve got fifteen minutes to gear up. I’ll be back by to get you.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Sandburg replied without a trace of irony.

 

Jack had put the other SG teams on standby, and Sam and Daniel had stayed on the base. All Jack had to do was to suit up, and he grabbed a spare tac vest and thigh holster for Sandburg. By the time he got back to Sandburg’s quarters, the younger man was dressed in the BDUs and combat boots, his long hair pulled back tightly.

 

Sandburg had dark circles under his eyes, and he was holding his weapon awkwardly. “I, uh, wasn’t sure about the holster.”

 

“I thought of that,” Jack replied, handing him the vest and holster. “Put those on.”

 

Sandburg managed to get both the holster and the vest on with minimal fumbling.

 

“You can get some sleep on the plane,” Jack said.

 

The muscle in Sandburg’s jaw began jumping. “I don’t need sleep. I need to find Jim.”

 

Jack had been there, and he just nodded. “We’re going to do everything we can to get Ellison out safely.”

 

By the time they reached the transports that had been dispatched to meet them, the other teams as well as a half dozen Marines were waiting with Sam, Daniel, and Teal’c. “Okay, listen up!” Jack hollered, and got immediate silence.

 

“This is a retrieval mission,” Jack began. “Personnel from Mountain Home Air Force Base will meet us and assist us in establishing a base of operations near the property. By the time we get there, the ground forces should have completed their recon. Once we extricate Ellison, we’ll call in the rest of the teams and hit them hard. I want _someone_ alive to answer questions. Beyond that, use whatever force you need to. Any questions?”

 

A ragged chorus of “no, sirs” rose from those assembled, and they all piled into the transports. The ride to the airstrip was bumpy and mostly quiet, with only a few pleasantries exchanged.

 

Jack kept an eye on Sandburg, who seemed to be enduring the ride well enough, although he sat hunched in on himself, staring resolutely at the floor. Jack leaned over to whisper in Daniel’s ear. “Keep an eye on him, would you? And show him how to use a zat.”

 

Daniel glanced at Sandburg. “Yeah, sure.”

 

The transport plane was bare of amenities, but it was a short flight. Jack caught a quick nap, and when he awoke, he checked his team. Sam looked to be asleep, like the good soldier she was. Teal’c’s eyes were closed, and Jack suspected he was deep in meditation. Daniel’s head was tipped back, and Jack couldn’t tell if he was awake or not.

 

Sandburg seemed to be nodding off, but then his head jerked up, his jaw set and eyes wide with fear.

 

Jack knew that look. That was the look of someone whose nightmares were worse than his waking world. Jack just hoped he could hold it together long enough to retrieve Ellison.

 

The transport vehicles were parked some distance away from the grounds of the old mental institution, and the overcast sky and thin afternoon light lent a grim air. Jack was the first one out of the troop transport, and he called, “SG-1, with me. Sandburg, keep up.”

 

The group from Mountain Home had already set up a command post, consisting of a couple of tents with radio equipment and phones. Jack saw that they’d set up a generator, and there was a vat of coffee ready to go. He was grateful to see that they’d stayed on the western side of the grounds, where the woods offered a natural blind. One thing Jack had learned about the NID was that they were arrogant bastards; they wouldn’t be expecting company, because they thought they were too damn good to get caught.

 

“Colonel O’Neill?” he heard, and Jack turned to see a trim, African-American man in fatigues approaching him. “I’m Major Randolph Brandon. General Hammond called ahead.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Jack replied. “He told you why we’re here?”

 

“They supposedly have a decorated Army officer and police detective held captive,” Brandon replied. “You’re going in to get him.”

 

“That’s the sum of it,” Jack confirmed. “My team goes first—quickly and quietly. Once we’ve got Ellison, we’ll call in reinforcements.”

 

Brandon nodded. “Understood. We’ve set up a perimeter, but we’ve stayed out of sight. They don’t know we’re here, but no one’s getting out without your authorization. We’ve also alerted local law enforcement, and they’ve agreed to let us have jurisdiction.”

 

“Good,” Jack replied. “Hold the perimeter. If anyone tries to get through, take them alive if you can. Lethal force is authorized otherwise.”

 

“You’ve got it,” Brandon promised.

 

“I want to see what kind of reconnaissance you have,” Jack said. “The rest of you, grab a cup of coffee and hang tight.”

 

Jack perused the maps and the newest satellite imagery. “We know the traffic center is around the east wing.”

 

“There’s been some increased chatter,” Brandon said. “We think they’re getting ready to liquidate.”

 

“Then we might be just in time to keep them from ending this little experiment,” Jack muttered. “Do you have confirmation that Ellison is on the premises?”

 

Brandon shook his head. “Not in so many words, but they keep talking about a subject.”

 

“Do we know where he is?” Jack asked.

 

Brandon shrugged. “Best guess is still in the east wing. We’ve already set up some infrared sensors.”

 

Jack smiled. “Let’s see.”

 

~~~~~

 

Blair roused as Daniel shook him. “Come on. We’re going in.”

 

The sun had gone down while Blair had napped. The coffee he’d poured sat next to him, virtually untouched. Blair hadn’t wanted to sleep, but he’d been tired enough to drop off anyway. “What?”

 

“We’re cleared to go. Are you okay?” Daniel asked.

 

Blair nodded. “I’m good. Thanks.”

 

He gulped the now cold coffee for the extra jolt of caffeine and joined Daniel and the others. “We’ve got an entry point,” O’Neill said. “Quick and quiet, people.”

 

Blair wished he’d taken the HRT course that Jim had suggested. He’d hesitated because he knew they’d end up calling on Jim constantly, and Blair hadn’t wanted to be put in a position where he’d have to shoot to kill more often than he already was.

 

But he had to admit, having that training now would have come in handy to get Jim out.

 

Those regrets wouldn’t do Blair any good, though. All he could do was to follow the leader—in this case, O’Neill.

 

O’Neill took point, Teal’c brought up the rear, and Sam and Daniel kept Blair between them. As they approached the fence, O’Neill ordered, “No weapons fire until we’ve found Ellison. Zats only.”

 

Blair glanced at the zat in his hand, wishing he had one m for police work; it would be nice to have non-lethal means to take someone down. Plus, it was relatively easy to use.

 

They went in through a section of the fence that had been cut, keeping low to the ground, moving through the brush and trees that had been allowed to grow up around the property. The thick undergrowth gave the bad guys privacy, but it also gave the good guys a way to approach without being seen.

 

The brush grew right up against the building on the west wing, which gave them a lot of ground to cover once they got inside, but it also meant there was less chance of being seen entering.

 

Blair moved carefully, trying not to let his stiff new combat boots squeak against the tile floor. The hallways were deserted until they reached the lobby at the center of the building. There was a single guard pacing the area, and O’Neill took him out with a single zat blast.

 

After securing the guard, they made their way into the east wing, where they ran into more resistance. The team kept Blair in the middle, so he didn’t even have an opportunity to fire as they took down five more people.

 

“Shit,” O’Neill murmured as they stared at the long hallway, lined with rooms. “There are a lot of rooms.”

 

Blair took a deep breath. “Give me a second, okay?”

 

O’Neill glanced back at him. “Something you’re not telling us?”

 

“Just—hang on.” Blair closed his eyes and said a brief, silent prayer for a sign. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the tail of a panther disappearing through a door. “There,” he pointed. “Towards the end of the hallway. Trust me.”

 

Sam shrugged. “It’s as good a place as any to start, sir.”

 

“I’m going to need a minute when we get in there,” Blair said quietly as they moved down the hallway.

 

“We need to get in and out,” O’Neill said sharply.

 

“And if you give me one minute, Jim might actually walk out instead of us having to carry him,” Blair shot back. He pointed. “This room.”

 

O’Neill tried the door, but it was locked up tight. “Move away from the door!” he called. “Carter, door. Teal’c, Daniel, make sure no one surprises us.”

 

Carter was already setting a small charge on the door. “Fire in the hole,” she murmured.

 

Blair followed Daniel’s example and turned away, putting his fingers in his ears. There was a bang, and Blair turned to see the door swinging open now that the lock had been blown.

 

O’Neill swept the room first, then waved Blair inside. Blair took the room in with a quick glance—it was bare as a prison cell. There was a toilet in the corner with a sink next to it, and an iron bedstead bolted to the floor with a bare mattress.

 

Jim was backed up against the far wall, his body tight with tension. The room was lit only by the dim lights coming in through the barred window and the light filtering in through the open door, but it should have been enough for Jim. Blair had expected some acknowledgment, but instead, Jim just stood there, his blue eyes wide and unseeing, barefoot and dressed in green scrubs.

 

“Fuck,” Blair muttered. “Jim, man, it’s me. It’s Blair.”

 

“Sandburg?” Jim asked. “You’re not supposed to be here. Did they get you, too?”

 

“No, Jim. I’m with the cavalry. We’re getting you out of here. How are the dials?”

 

Jim stiffened. “Who’s with you, Chief? It’s not Simon. Military?”

 

“There’s no time for introductions,” Blair replied. “Do you trust me?” Blair could see the panic in Jim’s unseeing eyes, and Blair put his hands on either side of Jim’s face. “Trust me.”

 

Jim seemed to calm a bit. “With my life.”

 

“How are the dials?”

 

“Sandburg!” O’Neill called.

 

“One minute!” Blair snapped. “Jim?”

 

“Sight’s gone, but you probably figured that out,” Jim replied. “Hearing is okay. The rest keep spiking.”

 

Blair nodded, keeping his hands on Jim’s face. “Okay, keep your hearing turned up, but remember there’s probably going to be gunfire. Everything else, just focus on me. Stick close, and we’ll get you out of here. Once we’re out, we’ll get you to a doctor.”

 

Jim nodded. “You’re my eyes, Sandburg.”

 

“You got it.”

 

Blair turned as Sam nudged him. “Teal’c says for Jim to put this on.”

 

Blair took the jacket Sam held out and helped Jim into it. He buttoned it up and patted Jim on the chest. “Stay close.”

 

O’Neill nodded. “Let’s move.”

 

Blair grabbed Jim’s hand and put it on his waist, more than ready to get out of this place.

 

~~~~~

 

Jim had heard the approaching footsteps. His hearing was the only sense that wasn’t out of control, and he’d kept it dialed up, knowing that his time was running out, and that if he was going to make an escape attempt, it would have to be soon.

 

At first, when he recognized Blair’s voice, Jim had been sure he was hallucinating. Then he’d heard the warning to get away from the door, and he’d hastily complied, dialing down his hearing and putting his fingers in his ears for good measure. The fact that they had to blast the door open, rather than unlocking it, boded well for the chances this was a rescue attempt.

 

Jim was a little freaked out to have Blair in this hellhole, but he couldn’t deny how good it felt to have Blair’s hands on his face, or to hear his calming words, saving Jim’s ass again.

 

As much as he wanted out, fear threatened to paralyze him as he followed Blair out of the room. With most of his senses dulled and his eyesight gone, Jim felt as though he’d been set adrift, anchored only by the heat of Blair’s skin under his hand, the touch of Blair’s hand on his, and the distinctive scent of Blair’s all-natural soap.

 

So, Jim stayed close to Blair, trying not to step on his heels, although it wouldn’t matter—Jim was barefoot, and he was fairly certain Blair was wearing combat boots.

 

There had to be a story to the combat boots and the military escort, Jim thought, but he wanted to escape badly enough to wait for answers. At least with Blair close, the dials were a little easier to control; Jim focused smell and touch on Blair, and he dialed his hearing up. Based on what he’d heard, Jim figured four people other than Blair. Three men, one woman, if Jim had to guess.

 

The cold tile floor under his bare feet gave way to cool concrete, and then grass, and he smelled fresh air for the first time in—Jim didn’t know how long.

 

The guy who had been barking at Sandburg spoke again, maybe into a radio. “Team 5, team 7, how are we doing?”

 

Jim heard the crackle of static, and then another voice said, “We’ve got it under control. Naismith managed to prevent them from wiping their hard drives, so we have all the info they gathered.”

 

“I want you to send it to Frasier immediately,” the man replied. “SG-1 will accompany Ellison back to the SGC. I want that information in Frasier’s hands before we get there.”

 

“You got it, Colonel.”

 

Blair stopped moving, squeezing Jim’s hand. Jim focused on the feel of grass and pine needles under his feet, and the cool air on his face. He shivered a little, grateful for the jacket that someone had loaned him.

 

All Jim could do was stand there, shivering and barefoot, waiting for the next play, no matter how much he hated waiting, or the feeling of not being in control.

 

“It’s cool, Jim,” Blair murmured. “We’re just going to wait for transport so we can get you to a doctor.”

 

“Where are we?” Jim asked, hating that he didn’t even know that much. All he’d been able to see through his window was a small square of sky.

 

Blair kept a grip on Jim, anchoring him with his touch. “Idaho, in the middle nowhere. I didn’t pay a lot of attention. I was more interested in getting to you.”

 

Jim nodded. “Where are we going?”

 

“Cheyenne Mountain,” Blair replied. “Colorado Springs. The doctors there are good, and they know about your senses and what happened to you. It’s our best bet for getting your eyesight back.”

 

Jim took a breath. “Okay. That’s okay. We go where we need to go.”

 

There was a pause, and Blair said, “While we’re waiting, let’s do introductions. I know you can’t see them, but the guy in charge is Colonel Jack O’Neill. The lovely lady who blew the door is Major Samantha Carter. You’re wearing Teal’c’s jacket, and we’ve also got Dr. Daniel Jackson here.”

 

“Medical doctor?” Jim managed to ask.

 

“Archaeologist,” Jackson replied. “And before you ask, it’s a long story.”

 

Jim smiled briefly. “It would have to be.”

 

“We’ve got a long trip ahead,” Daniel replied. “I’ll give you the short version.”

 

“And you’re going to want the short story,” Colonel O’Neill said. “Because Danny here could talk your ear off.”

 

“Reminds me of someone else I know,” Jim murmured, grateful to find a moment of levity in the midst of this mess.

 

Blair poked him in the ribs. “Funny guy.”

 

Jim heard a vehicle approach, and he tensed.

 

“We’re cool,” Blair assured him. “This is the truck we were waiting for, okay? We’ve got a drive to Mountain Home Air Force Base, and then we’re going to fly to Colorado Springs.”

 

Jim took a breath. “Okay.”

 

The truck stopped in front of them, and Blair urged him forward. “I’ve got you. We’re just going to step up into the truck.”

 

Jim followed Blair’s directions, grateful that Blair kept a grip on him. Jim needed that touch to anchor him, and he was even more grateful when Blair sat next to him on the bench, pressing up against his side. “You okay?” Blair asked softly.

 

He nodded.

 

Blair patted his leg. “It won’t be long, Jim.”

 

The truck bounced as they drove, and Jim closed his eyes, more out of reflex than anything else. “How long has it been?” he asked after a minute.

 

“Two and a half months,” Blair replied softly.

 

Jim grimaced. “It felt like a lot longer.”

 

Blair leaned into him just a little bit harder. “Yeah, it did, man.”

 

“Detective Ellison, can you tell us anything about what happened to you?”

 

“Colonel O’Neill,” Blair whispered quietly, confirming the identification of the voice’s owner.

 

Jim resigned himself to going over his ordeal again and again in the coming days. The debriefing after he’d been pulled out of Peru had gone on for weeks, long enough that Jim had begun to think they wouldn’t let him go. Maybe they wouldn’t have if Jim’s face hadn’t been on the front page of every major newspaper.

 

This time, Jim didn’t have that safety net.

 

“What do you want to know?” Jim asked. “I was unconscious for a good part of it.”

 

“Let’s start with what they wanted,” O’Neill replied.

 

Jim sighed. “I don’t have a fucking clue. Look, they grabbed me when I was coming off a stakeout. I think they hit me with a tranquilizer dart. I woke up in the same cell you found me in. They wanted to do a bunch of tests on my senses. I told them no. They said they’d grab Sandburg if I didn’t cooperate. I agreed to work with them. They gave me a bunch of tests, and then they started drugging me.”

 

“What were the effects of those drugs?” O’Neill asked.

 

Jim motioned to his eyes. “This, and a few other side effects. I never did figure out just what they wanted.”

 

“What did they say they wanted?” O’Neill probed.

 

Jim snorted. “They didn’t. They wanted to know how far my senses could go, what I could do, and then, when they couldn’t get Sandburg, they wanted to kill me.”

 

Blair’s hand tightened on his leg. “They were going to kill you?”

 

“Any day now,” Jim replied casually, although he could feel the unhappiness radiating off his partner. “You showed up in the nick of time.”

 

O’Neill kept asking questions, mostly about the people who had performed the tests, and how many guards there had been, which Jim answered desultorily. He was so fucking tired; his control remained tenuous, even with Blair right next to him.

 

Jim was grateful when the ride was over, and Blair helped him out of the transport. He could feel the hard-packed tarmac under his bare feet, and was grateful that he’d managed to turn his sense of touch down. He knew his feet were going to be sore later.

 

“We’re going to board the plane,” Blair said quietly. “It’s a private one, so that should make it easier. Just stay focused on me as much as you can, Jim.”

 

Jim had handled his blindness a lot better after the exposure to Golden, but he hadn’t been tortured for two months beforehand, or drugged until he barely knew up from down. And, he’d been in familiar territory. Right now, however, Jim was grateful for Blair’s help and steadying presence in getting him settled in a window seat. Jim could feel Blair hovering next to him.

 

“How long has it been since you last ate?” Blair asked.

 

Jim shrugged. “I’m all right. I’m not really hungry.”

 

He could feel Blair’s disapproval, but Jim refused to rise to the bait. He leaned back in his seat, shivering slightly. He heard Blair say, “Hey, can we get a little more heat? And a bottle of water and something for Jim to eat?”

 

“Blair—” Jim objected.

 

Blair leaned in close to speak directly into his ear. “Look, maybe you can’t see yourself, but you’ve lost weight—a lot of weight.” Jim felt a cold plastic bottle and some sort of bar pressed into his hands. “Just a few bites,” Blair coaxed. “Then you can sleep.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Jim agreed, too weary to do anything else. He got through the whole bottle of water, but only managed about half the power bar before he couldn’t stay awake any longer.

 

Blair plucked the power bar and empty bottle from Jim’s hands. “Sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

~~~~~

 

Sam glanced over at Ellison, who seemed to be deeply asleep, his head lolling against the window. Blair watched Ellison, and Sam suspected his grim expression matched her own.

 

Hell, she thought, glancing at the rest of her team, they were all looking a little grim after hearing Ellison’s story; the detective’s appearance only underscored just how bad his ordeal had been. In truth, he bore little resemblance to the photo in his personnel file. Ellison was pale and gaunt, with a sprinkling of gray at his temples that hadn’t been there a few months ago.

 

And as he’d described his experiences, Sam had been reminded of others who had been debriefed after being tortured. Ellison had the same flat affect, the same toneless quality to his voice that she’d witnessed in other victims.

 

“You okay?” she asked Blair quietly.

 

Blair shook his head. “He’s a really good guy, you know? He didn’t deserve any of this shit.”

 

“No one would have deserved it,” Sam said gently.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Blair replied, rubbing his eyes.

 

“Maybe we should call for an ambulance to meet the plane.”

 

Blair shook his head. “No. No way. After all of this, Jim isn’t going to consent to being strapped to a gurney if he can get somewhere under his own power.”

 

“I could call ahead to make sure Janet got the information from the operation in Idaho,” Sam offered. “And I can get a uniform brought to the plane. I imagine your partner would appreciate the chance to walk into the SGC without a lot of stares.”

 

Blair smiled. “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Sam.”

 

Sam glanced back at O’Neill, who was sitting behind her, and he nodded briefly, giving her permission. “Think nothing of it,” Sam replied and pushed the intercom button. “Are we good to make a phone call, Captain?”

 

“Feel free, Major,” came the cheerful reply.

 

Sam made the call, grateful when Janet answered herself. “Hey, Janet.”

 

“Hey,” Janet replied. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

 

“We’ve got him,” Sam confirmed. “Did you get the information? Naismith was supposed to send it as soon as he could.”

 

“I’ve received it,” Janet confirmed. “Just a few minutes ago, in fact. How is he?”

 

“Shaken,” Sam admitted. “Whatever they gave him caused blindness, but it’s hard to say whether it’s temporary.”

 

“It’s probably a drug reaction,” Blair inserted. “It’s happened before.”

 

“Blair thinks it’s a drug reaction, or maybe an interaction,” Sam said. “He says it’s happened before.”

 

“Let’s hope I don’t need to medicate him with anything more than Tylenol,” Janet muttered, sounding shaken. “I’m reading the file now, Sam, and this—this is bad.”

 

“I know,” she replied. “That’s why we want to give Detective Ellison as much autonomy as we can.”

 

Sam could hear Janet take a deep breath. “No ambulance, then.”

 

“I think that would be best,” Sam agreed. “And maybe some clothes and shoes. I think he’d appreciate not making a big splash when we get back.”

 

“Luckily, these bastards took exhaustive measurements,” Janet said, distaste and anger in her voice. “There will be an escort to meet you when you land, and they’ll bring something for Detective Ellison to wear. I want him brought straight to the infirmary. I’m sure that won’t thrill him, given what he’s been through, but I want confirmation of the drugs they’ve given him, and I want him under observation.”

 

“I’ll make sure of it,” Sam promised. “I don’t think he’ll put up too much of a fight.”

 

“See you soon, Sam,” Janet replied.

 

Sam hung up the phone, and glanced over at O’Neill. “Janet’s furious.”

 

“She should be,” O’Neill replied, his voice deceptively mild. “This is a fucking nightmare.”

 

O’Neill usually tried to keep his language PG around Sam—maybe around everyone. Sam wasn’t sure. But that meant that when he used foul language, O’Neill was seriously pissed off.

 

“We’re supposed to take him directly to the infirmary,” Sam said.

 

Blair winced. “Jim’s not going to be too happy about that.”

 

“Tell me there’s a better choice,” Sam said.

 

Blair sighed. “Jim will deal. He needs a doctor, no question about it.”

 

The rest of the flight was spent mostly in silence. O’Neill, Daniel, and Teal’c all seemed to be napping. Sam and Blair were the only ones to stay awake, and Blair kept his focus on Ellison.

 

When the plane landed, her teammates woke immediately, but Blair had to shake Ellison, who sat up, looking around wildly, blindly. “What—”

 

“It’s me,” Blair soothed. “You’re okay. We’ve just landed in Colorado Springs. We’re headed to the base next. Sam asked for some clothes to be delivered, and as soon as you change, we’ll get moving.”

 

“Chief?” Ellison’s voice had a plaintive note. “It wasn’t a dream?”

 

“No, man,” Blair assured him. “It wasn’t a dream. You’re safe now.”

 

Ellison slumped back into his seat. “Okay,” he replied, sounding a little lost. “I hear you.”

 

Blair patted his shoulder, and then left his hand there. “Good.”

 

The door of the plane opened, and O’Neill stood. “I’m just going to make sure that everything is ready to go.”

 

Sam kept a careful eye on Blair and Ellison, hearing Daniel and Teal’c whispering behind her. O’Neill reentered the plane with set of BDUs and a pair of boots, handing them to Ellison with unaccustomed gentleness. “Here you go, detective,” O’Neill said.

 

Jim nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

 

O’Neill patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll leave when you’re ready.”

 

“Come on,” Blair said. “I’ll show you where you can change.” As he led Jim to the back of the plane, Sam heard him say, “No offense, Jim, but I don’t think I’m going to be ready to let you out of my sight any time soon.”

 

“Carter, I want you and Teal’c to escort Ellison and Sandburg to the infirmary,” O’Neill ordered when they’d disappeared into the room at the back of the plane. “You can join us in the debriefing with the general once he’s settled.”

 

Sam nodded. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Jack?” Daniel queried.

 

“Just go with it, Daniel,” O’Neill said wearily.

 

Daniel shrugged, not asking any other questions.

 

Sam suspected that O’Neill didn’t want to be alone with her just now. After the last year, the rumors about them were still flying. Besides, of all of them, Teal’c was the one most capable of hauling Ellison to the infirmary without resorting to a gurney.

 

Blair emerged with Ellison in tow, and Sam noted that Ellison looked a little better. He stood a little straighter, anyway, and the BDUs fit him well. He still looked worn, the dark circles under his eyes and stubble on his face making him look older than he was, but there was no other hint of vulnerability now, other than the unobtrusive hand on Blair’s shoulder.

 

“Let’s get going,” Blair said cheerfully.

 

Ellison cleared his throat, holding out Teal’c’s jacket. “I wasn’t sure who this belonged to.”

 

“It is mine,” Teal’c replied, gently taking it from Ellison’s grip.

 

“Teal’c,” Blair whispered just loudly enough to be heard.

 

“Thank you,” Ellison said courteously.

 

“You are welcome, Detective Ellison,” Teal’c replied gravely.

 

“Just Jim,” Ellison replied. “Please.”

 

Sam exchanged a grin with Daniel, both of them knowing full well that Teal’c wouldn’t be using _just_ his first name any time soon.

 

“There’s a car waiting, kids,” O’Neill reminded them. “Let’s get moving.”

 

They piled into the fleet vehicle General Hammond had sent to meet them. Sam sat in the back with Daniel, her eye continually drawn to Ellison and Blair. Blair kept his hand on Jim’s shoulder during the entire drive, speaking quietly enough not to be overheard.

 

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Daniel murmured in Sam’s ear. “Now that we’ve rescued Detective Ellison, I’d really like to pick Blair’s brain about Sentinels.”

 

Sam grimaced. “Do you really think he’s going to want to share any information, given what happened?”

 

Daniel shrugged. “We _are_ the good guys.”

 

“Just because we know that doesn’t mean _they_ do,” Sam murmured.

 

Daniel made a sound that was basically a verbal shrug. They made their way inside the mountain, and Ellison looked incredibly tense as they rode the elevator down. Sam and Teal’c led the way off the elevator on level 21, Blair keeping a hand under Ellison’s elbow, while O’Neill and Daniel stayed on the elevator to head down to the briefing room.

 

They were halfway to the infirmary when the gate alarm sounded. Ellison went down like a felled tree, his hands clasped over his ears, his mouth open in a silent cry.

 

Blair tried to ease Ellison’s fall. Teal’c was right there, getting Ellison seated on the floor, his back against the wall. Sam lunged for the phone on the wall to call the infirmary.

 

“No!” Blair said sharply. “Just—give me a minute. There’s nothing the doctors can do when he’s in sensory overload like this.” Blair put his hands on either side of Ellison’s face. “Hey, come on, Jim,” he murmured. “I know you want to stay sharp, but you need to dial your hearing down now. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about the alarm. I should have. Just dial it down and come back to me, man.”

 

Slowly, slowly, Ellison pulled his hands away from his ears, although his face never lost that pinched look; it was pretty obvious that he was in a lot of pain. “Chief?”

 

“Yeah, man?” Blair asked gently, his thumb caressing Ellison’s cheek.

 

“Don’t let them strap me down.”

 

“Hey, no way,” Blair promised. “No way in hell. You have my word on that.”

 

Ellison nodded tightly. “I’m going to need help up.”

 

“It’s okay,” Blair soothed. “Teal’c and I have you.”

 

Teal’c grabbed one of Ellison’s arms, slinging it over his shoulders and pulling Ellison to his feet. Blair stayed glued to Ellison’s other side, and Sam ended up leading the way to the infirmary, casting anxious glances over her shoulder, glaring at anyone who spent too long staring at Ellison.

 

Janet met them as soon as they entered the infirmary, a relieved smile on her face. “I was just about to send out search parties,” Janet said. “Detective Ellison, I’m Dr. Frasier. Teal’c, Blair, let’s get Mr. Ellison settled on a bed.”

 

“It’s just Jim,” Ellison grunted as Blair and Teal’c helped him sit on an exam bed.

 

“Jim, then,” Janet said cheerfully. “We’ll just do a quick exam, and then you can get changed into some scrubs.”

 

Jim grimaced.

 

“I’m sure that’s the last thing you want to do, but I promise, I’m not going to do anything without your permission,” Janet said. “And you’re going to be a lot more comfortable if you’re not in uniform.”

 

Jim nodded. “Whatever you say, doc.”

 

Sam caught the expression on Blair’s face, and she suspected that Jim’s acquiescence was out of character. She touched Blair’s shoulder. “Let us know if you need anything,” she said. “We’ll probably stay on base for a while.”

 

Blair offered a grateful smile. “Thanks, Sam.”

 

“ _Anything_ you need,” Sam promised, looking at Jim. “Just let us know.”

 

“Thanks,” he repeated

 

“Thank you, Major Carter,” Jim murmured.

 

“It’s just Sam,” she said. “We’ll check in with you soon.”

 

Sam and Teal’c left the infirmary, heading towards the elevator. “This is fucked up,” Sam muttered angrily. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

 

“No, it shouldn’t have,” Teal’c agreed.

 

Sam rubbed her eyes. “I don’t even know what we’re going to tell General Hammond.”

 

“We tell him the truth,” Teal’c replied. “What else can we do?”

 

“Nothing,” Sam agreed wearily.

 

They were allowed into the conference room immediately, and Sam noticed what looked like medical records projected on the screen. “Did you get Detective Ellison settled?” General Hammond asked.

 

Sam nodded. “Yes, sir.”

 

Hammond smiled. “Very good, Major. Have a seat. I’d like to get your impressions of Detective Ellison.”

 

“He’s been through hell, sir,” Sam replied stoutly. “But it’s hard to get a read on him otherwise.”

 

Hammond nodded. “That’s pretty much what Colonel O’Neill and Dr. Jackson had to say. Recommendations?”

 

Sam glanced at O’Neill and Daniel, hoping to get some idea of what they had said, but they both shrugged. “Right now, I think we wait for Dr. Frasier’s report.”

 

Hammond smiled. “I agree. Do you think they’ll come after the detectives again?”

 

Sam hesitated. “I’d be surprised if we got all the ringleaders in this raid,” she finally said. “It’s entirely possible that the people who wanted him in the first place would go after him again.”

 

“Ellison said they were planning to kill him,” O’Neill pointed out, his tone suggesting that he was playing devil’s advocate. “Maybe they’ll leave him alone.”

 

“He said they were planning on killing him because they couldn’t reach Blair,” Sam argued, “and they wanted to get the results of the last test. Maybe that changed their minds.”

 

“From what I’ve seen, it’s possible,” Daniel agreed. “They wanted Blair to get leverage on Detective Ellison, but they also wanted to enhance his senses and isolate the gene responsible. Maybe they thought a guide was necessary.”

 

Hammond nodded thoughtfully. “I’d like to continue to offer them protective custody. Major Carter, if you’d make the pitch, I’d appreciate it.”

 

Sam’s eyes widened. “Me, sir?”

 

“You’ve worked with Detective Sandburg, and I believe you may be able to put Detective Ellison at ease,” Hammond replied.

 

Sam grimaced. “I’ll do my best.”

 

“I know you will.” Hammond braced his hands on the table. “You’re all on stand-down for the next few days, but I’d like you to stay close to the base.”

 

There was a ragged chorus of “yes, sirs” from around the table, from everyone other than Teal’c, who lived on base.

 

For her part, Sam had no intention of heading home, not when she might be called back at any moment. Instead, she checked with the quartermaster, and he assigned her base quarters for the night.

 

Sam suspected that she might be there for a while.

 

~~~~~

 

After they left the conference room, Carter sheered off to head for her designated quarters, and Teal’c headed for his. Daniel stayed by Jack’s side. “What do you think?” Jack asked as they reached Daniel’s lab.

 

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t have a clue. I guess we’ll see what happens when the drugs are out of Ellison’s system.”

 

“You think Hammond wants to make them a job offer?” Jack asked.

 

“Maybe,” Daniel replied. “Assuming Ellison regains his sense of equilibrium, he’d be really helpful, particularly on search and rescue missions.”

 

Jack considered that comment, and he couldn’t disagree. At least three missions came immediately to mind where Ellison’s talents would have come in handy. They’d lost three guys in an off-world mining operation just last week, because they couldn’t figure out where they were in time to get them out, and their equipment hadn’t worked because of some sort of atmospheric interference.

 

“And you think they’ll come after him again?”

 

“That would depend on whether they got what they wanted.” Daniel shrugged. “If you ask me, no one would go to as much trouble as they did and just let him go. Maybe they’d have killed him, but I think if they could get their hands on both Blair and Ellison? They’d probably start all over again.”

 

Jack grimaced. “That sucks.”

 

“No kidding,” Daniel replied. “The whole thing sucks. These bastards have a lot to answer for.”

 

Jack sighed. “They sure do. See you tomorrow?”

 

Daniel smiled. “Get some sleep, Jack.”

 

“You, too,” Jack said.

 

Jack had long since become accustomed to sleeping whenever he had the opportunity; it was something that had been ingrained in him during his first years in the military. Still, in spite of his exhaustion, he had a hard time falling asleep that night. Instead, he stared at the ceiling in his assigned quarters and thought about what he’d do if a group like the one that had grabbed Ellison had snatched one of his teammates.

 

Jack would have turned the whole planet upside down without a second thought; he would have gone against orders if that was what it took.

 

He could only be grateful that his teammates weren’t in danger; they didn’t have Ellison’s gifts, and there was no indication that they had Sandburg’s special abilities either—whatever those abilities happened to be.

 

Jack just had to keep an eye on Sandburg and Ellison while they were at the SGC. If they went back to Cascade, there was nothing he could do for them.

 

And maybe that would be for the best.

 

~~~~~

 

Sam stopped by the infirmary on her way to the lab the next morning. Blair was asleep in the chair next to Jim’s bed, and Jim seemed to be down for the count, too. Janet waved her over as soon as she saw Sam.

 

“How are they?” Sam asked.

 

“I was just about ready to wake Jim up for breakfast,” Janet replied. “I suspect that he’ll sleep a lot over the next few days.”

 

“It’s probably for the best,” Sam said. “Do you think his sight will come back?”

 

Janet shook her head, looking disgusted. “I managed to isolate twelve different drugs still present in his system. _Twelve_ , Sam. Some of those drugs will take weeks to fully metabolize. It might take that long for him to regain his sight, or it might take days. I have no idea.”

 

“Shit,” Sam said with feeling.

 

“That was my reaction,” Janet agreed. “It’s a mess, any way you put it. I wish I could order them to stay on the mountain, just so I could oversee Jim’s recovery, but I can’t. They could decide to head home tomorrow, and I wouldn’t be able to stop them.”

 

“General Hammond wants me to convince them to continue accepting protective custody,” Sam responded.

 

Janet shook her heads. “I’ll give you even odds on that. They’re both stubborn.”

 

Sam grinned. “Unlike anyone else here.”

 

Janet laughed. “Granted. I’m going to call for breakfast. Maybe you can convince Blair to take a break.”

 

“Not likely,” Sam replied. “But I’ll give it a try.”

 

She approached the bed slowly, having no desire to alarm either man. Jim’s eyes opened, although from the way he focused on a spot just above Sam’s right shoulder, he still hadn’t regained his sight. “Hey,” she said. “It’s Sam. How are you feeling?”

 

“I’ve felt worse,” he said philosophically. He fumbled for the controls to the bed, starting when Blair’s hand closed over his. “Blair?”

 

“Right here, man,” Blair assured him. “I’m going to adjust the bed, okay?”

 

“Yeah, that would be good,” Jim agreed.

 

Sam hovered near the side of the bed. “Janet said she was going to call for breakfast for you, Jim, and she wanted me to convince Blair to take a break.”

 

Blair immediately shook his head. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Chief, I’ll be fine,” Jim said softly. “You should go—get something to eat. Get cleaned up?”

 

Sam grinned at the emphasis Jim placed on that last suggestion, and Blair pulled a face. “So, you’re saying I stink?”

 

“Well, I didn’t _say_ it,” Jim replied with a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

 

“I can stay,” Sam offered. “If that would make you feel better.”

 

Blair let out a breath. “Yeah, that would. Jim?”

 

“I’m not made of glass,” Jim replied irritably.

 

“No, you’re not,” Blair agreed cheerfully. “But Jim, I just spent the last two and a half months worried about you. I can’t turn it off that easily.”

 

Jim sighed. “Yeah, some company would be nice.”

 

Sam smiled. “I’m really very good company.”

 

“I’m sure you are,” Jim replied with a smile that transformed his face, making him look younger.

 

Blair rose, offering Sam his seat. “I guess I’ll go get cleaned up, then. I’ll see you in a bit.”

 

“Blair,” Jim called. “Go outside. Get some fresh air, okay? I’ll be fine, I promise.”

 

Blair hesitated, but he finally sighed. “I’ll be back soon.” He patted Jim’s shoulder awkwardly before he left.

 

“How’s your sight?” Sam asked quietly.

 

Jim shrugged. “Better, actually. Things seem to be getting a little lighter around the edges.”

 

“Improvement,” Sam replied.

 

“I’ll take just about anything at this point,” Jim replied. “And the rest of my senses seem to be settling down. I’ve got better control now.” He shifted a little. “I feel like I should say thank you. Sandburg said you were the one who figured out where I was.”

 

“It was a team effort,” she insisted. “Blair helped.”

 

Jim chuckled. “You know, this is pretty much exactly how it always goes down.”

 

“How what goes down?” Sam asked.

 

“Blair downplays his role, and I talk to the people he claims are responsible for getting something done, and it turns out Blair’s done a lot of the work.” Jim shook his head. “It’s par for the course. Anyway, thanks.”

 

Sam shrugged, and then realized Jim couldn’t see her. “I’m just glad we could get you out.”

 

She was saved from having to come up with another topic of conversation by the arrival of Jim’s breakfast tray. She watched as the orderly set the tray up, but she could see the renewed tension in Jim’s posture. She thought she understood the source.

 

“There’s a glass of orange juice at one o’clock, three inches from the far side of the tray,” Sam said quietly. “There’s a mug of coffee just to the left. Your left. On the plate, there’s toast at ten o’clock, scrambled eggs at six o’clock, and bacon at three o’clock. The fork is on your right, near the edge of the tray.”

 

Jim let out a long breath. “Thanks.”

 

He managed fairly well, and Sam resolutely ignored the way Jim’s hand shook slightly. He was halfway through his toast when he asked, “So, why Air Force?”

 

“I wanted to go to space,” Sam admitted. “And NASA tends to pick Air Force officers for space missions.”

 

Jim finished off a piece of bacon. “And you got to go to space.”

 

“How much did Blair tell you?” Sam asked.

 

Jim smiled wryly. “Not all that much, but he did mention that you guys were affiliated with the space program in some way.”

 

“As soon as you sign a nondisclosure agreement, we can probably read you in,” Sam replied. “Especially considering that General Hammond wanted me to offer continued protection.”

 

Jim paused mid-bite, but he chewed and swallowed his bite of eggs before saying, “You think they’ll come after me again.”

 

“We don’t know,” Sam admitted. “But Janet said she’d feel better if she could keep an eyes on your recovery.”

 

Jim smiled briefly. “I think _I’d_ feel better if she could keep an eyes on my recovery,” he admitted. “She’s a scary lady, but she also knows exactly what’s going on with me. That’s rare in my line of work.”

 

“She’s one of the best doctors in the country,” Sam offered. “The SGC only hires the best.”

 

“Good to know,” Jim replied. “I’m assuming that applies to you, as well.”

 

Sam flushed. “Ah, I guess?”

 

Jim chuckled. “So, what is it you’re best at?”

 

“Officially?” Sam asked. “Deep space telemetry.”

 

“Unofficially?”

 

“Worm hole physics,” Sam replied. “I’m pretty much the expert.”

 

“And what does an expert in worm hole physics have to do with a rogue organization that would kidnap a Sentinel?” Jim asked.

 

“We have a history with the NID, and its rogue elements,” Sam replied. “And not a great one. If we can put a spoke in their wheel, we’re going to do it.”

 

Jim smiled. “Fair enough. I guess that worked out well for me, then.”

 

“Even if we hadn’t been inclined to stop these particular bad guys, we would have pulled you out. We’re not in the business of letting anybody get tortured.” Sam watched as Jim cleaned his plate. “Once you’re feeling better, maybe you’d want to go over the results they came up with.”

 

Jim fiddled with his fork. “Yeah, maybe.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Sam was quick to assure him. “It’s completely up to you.”

 

Jim glanced away, and then back in Sam’s direction. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

 

“And you don’t have to, if that’s your choice,” Sam assured him.

 

Jim nodded. “You mind if we change the subject?”

 

“Not at all,” Sam replied. “What do you want to talk about?”

 

“You know anything about basketball?” Jim asked hopefully.

 

“Not really,” Sam admitted. “Sorry.”

 

“What do you do for fun?” Jim asked.

 

Sam smiled. “I have a motorcycle.”

 

Jim grinned widely. “What kind?”

 

~~~~~

 

Blair took a deep breath, grateful for the fresh air. Jim often seemed to know what he needed before _he_ knew, and this occasion was no different. After more than a full day in the same clothing, Blair had needed a shower, a decent meal, and a little time under the wide-open sky, even if he had to hike a bit to get there. The mountain air was sharp and cold, even invigorating, and Blair took another deep breath.

 

He had Jim back, and he needed to call Simon.

 

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Simon’s number. “Banks,” came Simon’s familiar voice.

 

“Simon, it’s Blair,” he said. “I have Jim.”

 

Blair heard Simon’s sigh of relief. “Thank God,” Simon said fervently. “How is he?”

 

“Blind,” Blair replied briefly. “We think it’s a drug interaction.”

 

“Like when he was exposed to Golden?” Simon asked.

 

“Something like that,” Blair agreed. “The doctor here is treating him. She thinks Jim will probably regain his sight as the drugs move out of his system.”

 

“That’s good news,” Simon replied. “So when are you coming home?”

 

Blair sighed. “I don’t know. They aren’t sure the same group won’t come after us again.”

 

“Damn,” Simon murmured. “So, you don’t know when you’ll be back.”

 

“I wish I did,” Blair assured him. “But I’ll definitely keep you up to date, Simon.”

 

Simon sighed gustily. “I want frequent updates,” he insisted. “I mean it, Sandburg.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Blair replied. “I promise.”

 

“How is he otherwise?” Simons asked.

 

Blair pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “He was tortured for more than two months. He’s not great.”

 

“But he’ll be okay?”

 

“I think so,” Blair agreed. “He seems to be bouncing back. I’d like him to stay here as long as the drugs are in his system, though. The doctor here knows about Jim’s senses. She knows what happened to him. I think she should probably oversee his recovery.”

 

“Fair enough,” Simon replied. “Just let me know what’s going on, and have him call me when he gets the chance.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Blair replied. “Don’t worry, Simon. We’re in good hands.”

 

“Thanks for letting me know what’s going on,” Simon responded. “I’ll talk to you soon, Blair.”

 

Blair hung up and tipped his head back, looking up at the cloudless sky. He wondered why he wasn’t more homesick; while there were things he missed about Cascade—Simon, the other guys from Major Crimes, the view from the loft—he was content to be here.

 

Probably because he could get on the elevator, go down a few hundred feet, and find Jim in the infirmary. Oddly enough, even the presence of so many soldiers didn’t bother him, because he knew that anyone coming after Jim now would have to go through a lot of armed resistance first.

 

What if they did go back home, only to find out in a month or two that this group wasn’t done with Jim yet? Or what if—some little voice in the back of Blair’s head prompted—what if they were done with Jim, but they wanted Blair now? Maybe they got all the data they needed on Jim, but that wasn’t true of Blair.

 

He hated the idea of having to look over his shoulder all the time, waiting for the other shoe to drop, never knowing when they’d hit next.

 

With a sigh, Blair headed back into the mountain, stopping at the check-in desk. “General Hammond would like to see you, Mr. Sandburg,” the very young MP stated. “Just head down to his office.”

 

Blair grimaced, but he knew he couldn’t refuse an invitation from a general. “I’m on my way now,” he promised.

 

O’Neill was sitting across from Hammond when Blair entered, and he nodded sharply. “Sandburg.”

 

“Good morning, sir,” Blair replied. “General Hammond. I was told you wanted to see me?”

 

“Dr. Frasier tells me that Detective Ellison is doing much better,” Hammond replied. “She’s hopeful that he’ll make a full recovery.”

 

That wasn’t news to him, so Blair just nodded.

 

“There is some concern that this group might try again,” Hammond continued.

 

Blair ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, sir. That’s something I’ve thought about.”

 

“Colonel O’Neill and I have been talking. We can, of course, continue to offer protective custody,” Hammond said.

 

Blair shook his head. “No offense, sir, you guys have been great, but we can’t stay here long-term. It would feel too much like a prison sentence.”

 

“I thought you might say that,” Hammond replied. “The alternative would be to offer you a job—you and Detective Ellison.”

 

Blair was taken aback. He had half-expected a job offer once Jim’s senses were back under control—assuming Jim did get his senses under control. The fact that they were offering now told Blair that whatever information they had, there were some serious repercussions to consider.

 

“I appreciate the offer,” Blair began slowly. “But what would we be doing?”

 

“We hire anthropologists and archaeologists on a regular basis,” Hammond replied. “Dr. Jackson was very impressed by your list of achievements.”

 

Blair shook his head. “I’m a detective, General. I’m not a doctor of anything.”

 

“What if you could submit and defend your original dissertation?” Hammond countered. “Most of our scientists here still publish, but their work is labeled classified, and isn’t released to the public, although we have agreements with a couple of universities.”

 

Blair wondered if General Hammond knew he’d just offered Blair everything he wanted on a platter. He liked being a cop, and he hadn’t wanted to give up the roller coaster of police work for the classroom full time, but this—

 

 _This_ was his doctorate, visiting other planets, and working with people who knew about Jim and his abilities. It meant that maybe Blair could be one of those who helped shut down the bastards who had hurt Jim so badly for good.

 

Of course, that was assuming that Jim would be willing to leave Cascade.

 

“What about Jim?” Blair asked. “We’re kind of a matched set.”

 

“Actually, Ellison transferred to the individual ready reserves when he left the Army,” O’Neill replied. “We can reactivate his commission with a little paperwork.”

 

Blair’s eyes widened. “You mean the Army could have called him back?”

 

“Technically, they could have, but it’s highly unlikely,” O’Neill replied. “Ellison was an officer, so without officially resigning his commission, he’d be automatically transferred to the IRR. Reactivating him would be a pain in the ass, especially after what Colonel Oliver had to say about him.”

 

“Oliver was a crook!” Blair protested.

 

“The Army knows that now,” General Hammond said. “But that evidence didn’t come to light until fairly recently, and there was no reason to recall Detective Ellison to active duty.”

 

Blair blew out a breath. “Why are you asking me now? We don’t even know if Jim’s sight is going to come back yet.”

 

“Dr. Frasier has every confidence that it will,” Hammond replied. “And I trust her judgment on matters such as this. Beyond that, however, we have the report that Dr. Frasier and Sergeant Naismith put together from the data gathered from Detective Ellison.”

 

Blair accepted the plastic-bound report that Hammond held out. “What am I looking at?”

 

“We believe they isolated the Sentinel gene, and that they have the technology to activate it in those who show only potential, which means they’ll be able to identify active Sentinels and create new ones,” O’Neill replied.

 

Blair shook his head. “That’s impossible. The technology required for that kind of gene sequencing, that quickly—”

 

“Isn’t from Earth,” O’Neill finished. “And we have some evidence that they’ve managed to access the DNA database set up for identification of military personnel.”

 

Blair shook his head. “What good would that do?”

 

“They were working to enhance Ellison’s senses,” Hammond said quietly. “Dr. Frasier believes they may have succeeded. And if they managed to do that, they can certainly identify those who have the potential to become a Sentinel and activate the gene, even enhance it.”

 

Blair swallowed, suddenly sick to his stomach. He thought about Alex, whose senses had come online after a period of solitary confinement, and of Jim, who’d believed he’d been going crazy when he’d come online this last time.  What would happen to the men or women these assholes managed to activate? How far would this group go to control new Sentinels?

 

“You want me around as an expert,” Blair said slowly. “Jim and me. Just in case they manage to activate a bunch of Sentinels.”

 

“We can’t deny it would be helpful,” Hammond replied. “But beyond that, Detective Ellison’s enhanced senses could be of great help.”

 

Blair nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll have to talk this over with Jim.”

 

“Please do,” General Hammond replied. “You can wait until he has his sight back to give him the report, or you can read it to him. Once he’s feeling better, I’ll make him the same offer I’ve made you.”

 

Blair glanced down at the report. “Thank you. I’d like to go check on Jim now.”

 

“Of course, son,” General Hammond replied.

 

Normally, Blair didn’t much like it when anyone called him “son,” but he didn’t really mind it coming out of Hammond’s mouth. It felt sincere.

 

Hammond would be a good guy to work for, Blair thought. He just wasn’t sure he wanted to leave Cascade, even for the promise of his doctorate and alien worlds.

 

Blair made his way to the infirmary in a daze, wondering just what he was supposed to tell Jim. Waiting until Jim had his sight back to share the report was out of the question. Blair knew Jim well enough to know he wouldn’t respond well to any attempt on Blair’s part to protect him.

 

Then again, was it worth bringing up the job offer before they knew for certain whether Jim’s sight would come back in full?

 

Blair had been gone from the infirmary long enough that he wasn’t sure Sam would still be with Jim. She’d promised to stay, but Blair knew she was busy, and Blair been delayed by his meeting with Hammond

 

Sam had stuck around, though, sitting next to Jim’s bed, holding a rather enthusiastic conversation with him. Blair paused, realizing that this was the most animated he’d seen Jim since the rescue. Granted, not that much time had passed, but Jim had been scarily passive the last couple of days. He’d been expecting Jim to lose his temper, or to get cranky about the restrictions Janet had placed on him, and there had been nothing.

 

Blair edged a little closer, wanting to know what they were talking about without interrupting. To his surprise, Jim was asking about motorcycles, and Sam was talking about her Harley.

 

“When your eyesight is back to normal, you should come riding with me,” Sam said. “I’ve got a 1940 Indian, too. It’s good for your mental health.”

 

Blair felt a pang, realizing that Jim was essentially setting up a date. If they took the job offer with the SGC, maybe Jim and Sam would start something up. Blair didn’t much like the idea, but he chalked that up to missing his roommate, and not wanting Jim to get hurt. The last thing Jim needed now was another failed relationship, or another person who couldn’t accept Jim for who and what he was.

 

Jim smiled. “I’d like that. It’s been years since I was on a bike.”

 

“But you surf,” Sam said. “I should have known you’d ridden motorcycles.”

 

Jim grinned and shrugged. “It’s been longer than I’d like to admit since I’ve been on a bike _or_ a surfboard.” His head swung unerringly in Blair’s direction. “Look who’s back.”

 

Sam grinned. “Hey, Blair. Have a nice walk?”

 

“Yeah, it was good to get some fresh air,” Blair agreed. “Jim, we should go outside as soon as Dr. Frasier releases you.”

 

Jim nodded hesitantly. “I’d like that.”

 

“I should get going,” Sam said, briefly clasping Jim’s shoulder. “I’ll talk to you later?”

 

“I’ll look forward to it,” Jim replied.

 

Blair threw himself into the chair that Sam had just vacated. “Jim, you dog,” he said with a grin.

 

Jim rolled his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“The gorgeous Major Carter?” Blair prompted.

 

Jim grimaced. “She’s a really nice lady, but I can’t say whether she’s gorgeous.”

 

“Take it from me, man,” Blair said in a low voice. “She’s tall, blonde, and dangerous—just your type, other than the whole not trying to kill you part.”

 

Jim laughed. “Yeah, well, I thought I’d turn over a new leaf.” He sighed. “Seriously, Chief. We have no idea how long it’s going to take for my sight to come back.”

 

“So we’re accepting their offer of protective custody,” Blair said quietly.

 

“I am,” Jim admitted. “At least until my sight comes back.”

 

Blair nodded. “I think that’s a good idea,” he admitted. “I have Frasier’s report on what those assholes did, and what they found.”

 

“What does it say?” Jim asked.

 

“I haven’t read it yet. I can read it to you, or I can read it and summarize it for you until you can read it yourself,” Blair said. “It’s up to you.”

 

Jim hesitated, and then said, “Read it for me? I trust you’ll tell me what I need to know.”

 

Blair couldn’t quite believe that he was worthy of that sort of trust, but he reached out to squeeze Jim’s hand. “Yeah, sure. You can read all of it for yourself when you’re better.”

 

Jim nodded. “It’s not quite as dark as it was. I think my eyesight is improving, and the rest of the dials are easier to control.”

 

“Good,” Blair said fervently. “That’s great news, Jim.”

 

He was about to tell Jim of the job offer, but Dr. Frasier approached. “Well, Jim, are you ready to get out of here?”

 

“Is that a trick question?” Jim joked. “Because your hospitality has been great, doc.”

 

Frasier laughed. “That’s good to hear. I want to see you back here tomorrow, just to check your progress, but I suspect you’re ready for a shower and some privacy. I’ve already checked, and there are base quarters waiting for you right next door to Blair.”

 

Jim smiled. “Thanks.”

 

“I’m just going to get one more sample of blood, and then I’ll send you on your way,” she said.

 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a vampire,” Jim replied, although he obligingly held out an arm.

 

She snorted. “You and half the base. You’ll let me know if you have any problems.” Her tone made it an order, rather than a suggestion.

 

“Of course,” Jim promised. “Thanks, doc.”

 

She finished drawing blood and patted Jim on the shoulder. “Don’t mention it. I don’t think I have to say this, but I’d recommend that you not wander around the base by yourself.”

 

“I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon,” Jim replied ruefully.

 

Frasier smiled. “Well, Blair knows the procedure by now. I’d like to see you gain back a few pounds before I release you from my care, but don’t overdo it. I don’t want you getting sick. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“You got it,” Jim replied.

 

There was an airman waiting to escort them to Jim’s quarters, and Blair was glad to see that Dr. Frasier was right. Jim’s room was right next to his.  “Do you want me to stay?” Blair asked as he escorted Jim inside and closed the door behind them.

 

“Yeah,” Jim said gratefully. “I don’t suppose you brought any of my clothing with you.”

 

Blair grimaced. “No, I’m sorry. I should have. It’s not that I didn’t think we’d get you back, it’s just—” He stopped, uncertain of how much he could or should say.

 

He really had believed they’d get Jim back. It was just that he hadn’t thought of something so mundane as a change of clothes or toiletries in the face of the larger issue.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jim said.

 

“I can go grab my stuff,” Blair offered. “I’ve got more than enough for both of us.”

 

“I don’t think your clothes are going to fit me, Chief,” Jim said with a smile. “No matter how much weight I’ve lost.”

 

Blair smirked. “I meant toiletries, Jim. It looks like someone has left a couple of uniforms at the end of the bed, so you don’t have to worry about clothes.”

 

Some indefinable emotion passed over Jim’s face, but he didn’t argue. “Thanks.”

 

Blair hurried to collect the things Jim would need, and then let himself back into Jim’s room without knocking. Jim was still standing where Blair had left him, his expression so lost that Blair’s heart ached.

 

When Jim’s sight had been compromised by the Golden, he’d soldiered on, undaunted, intent on bringing down the ring of drug dealers even though he couldn’t see. Now, Jim seemed bewildered, and uncharacteristically passive. Blair wondered if the NID had managed to break him.

 

“You okay, man?” he asked softly.

 

Jim shrugged. “As okay as I can be.”

 

“I know you want to go home,” Blair began, “but I think we should wait at least until your sight comes back.”

 

“ _If_ it comes back,” Jim replied bitterly.

 

“Hey, you said it was already getting better,” Blair objected. “And Dr. Frasier said it was just a matter of time.”

 

“She said it was _probably_ a matter of time, but I already said I’d stay, didn’t I?” Jim shook himself, as though he could throw off the doubts that plagued him. “You mind putting that stuff in the shower?”

 

Blair approached Jim slowly, and put a gentle hand under his elbow. “Yeah, sure. Come on, I’ll show you where everything is.”

 

There was a towel hanging over the bar already, and Blair pointed it out to Jim. He set the shampoo and soap on the small shelf, and took Jim’s hand to indicate where everything was. “If you want some help shaving, I can give you a hand,” he offered diffidently.

 

Jim ran a hand over his face. “It’s been a few days,” he acknowledged. “You don’t have an electric razor, do you?”

 

“No, I don’t,” Blair replied. “Is that what you used?”

 

“Every few days they’d let me shower and shave,” Jim replied, sounding a little distant. “They kept an eye on me, though.”

 

“Do you want me to leave?” Blair asked. “I can go back to my room.”

 

Jim smiled gently. “No. It’s—I’d feel better knowing you’re guarding the door.”

 

“Anything you need,” Blair promised fervently. “I mean that.”

 

Jim’s smile widened. “I know you do, Chief.” He touched Blair’s cheek gently. “I’ll let you know about the shaving thing.”

 

Blair left him then, collapsing back onto the bed and rubbing his hands over his face. He heard the water begin to run, and he wondered how long it was going to take for Jim to get back to normal—if he ever would.

 

Blair wasn’t going to hold his breath on that point.

 

The water ran for a long time, but Blair didn’t blame Jim for needing the break. He was probably relishing the privacy, and the chance to get clean.

 

When Jim emerged, it was in a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped around his waist. His state of undress underscored just how much weight Jim had lost, and Blair winced but didn’t say anything. Just as he’d done on the plane, Blair handed Jim the bundle of clothing, boxers on top, so that Jim could put each article on in order.

 

“Pretty much everybody on base wears a uniform,” Blair began conversationally. “Even the civilian consultants. You’ll blend right in.”

 

Jim smiled briefly. “That’s good to know.”

 

Blair turned his head away to give Jim some privacy, even though he hadn’t asked for it, and wouldn’t know. “I thought we could grab some lunch after this.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Jim said, his voice muffled briefly.

 

Blair glanced over to see Jim pulling his t-shirt down over his chest. “Do you want any help?”

 

Jim hesitated, but then gave a short nod. “Yeah, I don’t really want to slice my face up, and I don’t trust my hands to stay steady.”

 

Blair glanced at Jim’s hands, which had a mild tremor. “Sure, Jim. Of course.”

 

It was a strangely intimate experience to lather Jim’s face while he perched on the closed toilet seat. Blair took a deep breath, willing his nerves to calm and his hands to hold steady. Slowly, carefully, Blair began to scrape the stubble off of Jim’s face with the razor. Jim kept his eyes closed the entire time, and Blair tilted Jim’s head this way and that with careful fingers.

 

When Blair finished, he carefully wiped every trace of shaving foam off of Jim’s face. He was surprised when Jim reached out and pulled him close, resting his head against Blair’s stomach.

 

Blair swallowed hard and cupped the back of Jim’s head. “I’ve got you, buddy,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

 

~~~~~

 

Jack walked into the commissary, intent on getting lunch and pie—and not necessarily in that order. As was his habit, he scanned the room as he entered. He spotted Ellison sitting at table on the far side of the room, his back to a corner. Sandburg was in line, juggling two trays, with Carter and Daniel behind him.

 

He sighed, resigning himself to having to eat lunch with the two men, in addition to his team. Jack grabbed lunch and made his way through the scattered tables to slide in next to Daniel. “Howdy, campers,” Jack said.

 

Daniel and Carter exchanged grins. “Jack,” Daniel replied evenly. “Did you have a good morning?”

 

Jack shrugged, determinedly _not_ looking at Sandburg, since most of his morning had been spent in a meeting with Hammond _about_ Sandburg and Ellison. “Meetings, you know. You?”

 

“Translations,” Daniel replied happily. “I think I’ve made some progress.

 

Sandburg asked Daniel what he’d been working on, and Jack tuned them out, focusing instead on Ellison, who was making his way through his meal with single-minded purpose, his eyes still unfocused.

 

Teal’c approached the table, moving more quietly than someone of his size to do might be expected to move. “Detective Ellison,” he rumbled. “May I sit next to you?”

 

Ellison’s head came up. “Uh, sure. Teal’c, right?”

 

“That is correct. You have a good ear,” Teal’c replied, taking the seat on the other side of Ellison.

 

Daniel was still chattering at Sandburg. Since they were sitting next to each other, it was easy for them to shut out everybody else. Jack was a little closer to Teal’c and Ellison, so he listened in to their conversation almost against his will.

 

“Your eyesight is better,” Teal’c observed.

 

Ellison shrugged. “Things aren’t quite as dark, but I can’t make much out. Vague shapes, maybe, but not enough to be of use.”

 

“You survived,” Teal’c replied equably. “Sometimes, that’s as much as we can do.”

 

Ellison made a noncommittal sound.

 

Teal’c raised an eyebrow; Jack figured Ellison’s only defense against the eyebrow was being functionally blind. “You do not agree?”

 

Ellison shrugged. “If I’d been doing my job, I would have escaped.”

 

“And if escape was not possible?” Teal’c countered.

 

Ellison blinked, almost as though he’d never thought about that possibility. “I don’t—”

 

“There were three four-person teams brought in to rescue you, along with a group of Marines and personnel from a nearby military base,” Teal’c pointed out reasonably. “Would you accuse us of not doing our jobs, or being unprepared?”

 

“No,” Ellison replied immediately. “You got me out, didn’t you?”

 

Teal’c kept his silence, and even though Ellison couldn’t see Teal’c’s expression, he seemed to read Teal’c’s attitude easily enough. “I hear you,” he muttered.

 

Sandburg glanced at Ellison and grinned at that comment, and Jack suspected it was a private joke between them.

 

“Shut up, Sandburg,” Ellison muttered.

 

Sandburg’s grin grew wider. “I didn’t say anything.”

 

“I can _hear_ you thinking, Chief,” Ellison said with an amused grin. “But your point is taken, as is yours, Teal’c.”

 

“Good,” Teal’c intoned.

 

Jack noticed that Ellison didn’t have any pie on his plate. “Ellison, the pie is pretty good here.”

 

Jim’s head came up. “Blair, you didn’t tell me there was pie.”

 

“Dr. Frasier said to go easy on the food, man,” Sandburg replied. “I wasn’t sure your stomach would be up to it.”

 

“Get one slice and I’ll give you what I can’t eat,” Ellison replied.

 

Sandburg heaved a sigh, but he was smiling. “Milk this for all its worth, Jim. I’m done playing errand boy as soon as your sight is back.”

 

Ellison grinned. “So you say.”

 

The bickering felt normal, easy, and it told Jack a lot about their partnership. In a sense, it put Jack at ease.

 

When Sandburg returned, it was with a piece of apple pie, which Sandburg announced with a certain amount of smugness. “There’s fruit, so it’s at least a little healthier.”

 

“You know, Dr. Frasier said I was supposed to gain weight,” Ellison replied smugly.

 

“Eating regular decent meals will take care of that,” Sandburg said. “That’s no excuse to eat Wonderburger and pie all the time.”

 

“What is Wonderburger?” Teal’c asked.

 

Ellison grinned. “It’s the food of the gods.”

 

Sandburg snorted. “It’s a heart attack on a platter, is what it is. It’ll kill you.”

 

“Ah, is this fast food?” Teal’c asked.

 

“The _best_ fast food,” Ellison insisted.

 

Sandburg rolled his eyes, but Jack could see the relief in the smile that tilted his lips. “That’s debatable.”

 

“No, it’s not, Chief,” Ellison insisted.

 

Jack grinned. “You know, I’ve had Wonderburger. I have to agree with Ellison.”

 

Ellison grinned broadly. “See, Sandburg? Finally, a discriminating opinion.”

 

Sandburg laughed, relaxing even further, and Jack suspected he was seeing a normal reaction from Ellison; it was a far cry from the distant, shell-shocked man they’d rescued.

 

He understood Sandburg’s relief. Jack had been on a number of tough missions where he’d been grateful for any sign that his team members were back to normal.

 

Carter grinned. “I don’t know if you could call Colonel O’Neill’s opinion ‘discriminating.’”

 

The conversation at that point devolved into good-natured ribbing, which Jack joined on occasion, although he mostly watched the others. Ellison stayed relatively quiet as well, but he participated enough for Jack not to worry too much.

 

“You know, Blair, I could use your help this afternoon,” Daniel said. “I’ve got a few artifacts from off-world that seem to be related to Mayan culture. Your area of expertise is South America, right?”

 

Sandburg hesitated. “That’s one of my areas of expertise.”

 

“Would you mind?” Daniel prodded.

 

Sandburg cast an anxious look at Ellison. “I don’t—”

 

“Go,” Ellison said quietly. “It’s not often you get to use your skills in anthropology.”

 

Sandburg shifted, and Carter said, “Why don’t you come join me in my lab, Jim?”

 

Ellison frowned. “I don’t want to take you away from your work,” he protested. “I distracted you enough this morning.”

 

“I’m just running some simulations,” Carter replied. “I could use the company.”

 

Ellison nodded. “If you’re sure.”

 

“Absolutely.” Carter smiled, and Jack had to suppress the surge of jealousy he felt. He didn’t have the right, and unless one of them decided to retire, there was no chance.

 

Jack supposed that at least if Carter started seeing Ellison, the gossip on base about him and Carter would end.

 

At least, he hoped so. Carter didn’t need that kind of trouble.

 

~~~~~

 

Jim relaxed in Sam’s lab, listening as she puttered. “Thanks for putting up with me,” he said. “I know how much Blair misses anthropology and research.”

 

“He’s a good detective,” Sam replied. “He was the one who helped me narrow down the location for where they were holding you.”

 

“Blair is the best detective I’ve ever worked with,” Jim admitted roughly. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”

 

Sam let the silence linger, and Jim was grateful for the quiet, and the company. He hadn’t been lying; he wanted to give Blair the space to enjoy the chance to use his anthropology skills, but he hadn’t wanted to be alone either. Sam had offered the perfect opportunity.

 

“Tell me about what you’re working on,” Jim said. “If you don’t mind.”

 

“No, not at all,” Sam said. “But it’s pretty advanced physics.”

 

Jim hesitated, and then admitted, “I’d appreciate hearing someone else’s voice, and talking about physics is a lot better than hearing people talk about how much they’d like to dissect me.”

 

He felt Sam’s wince, even if he couldn’t see it, and he quickly apologized. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

 

“No,” Sam said quickly. “We’ve all—well, we’ve all been captured and tortured before. I won’t say I know how you feel, but I can empathize.”

 

Jim felt some of his tension ease. “Yeah?”

 

“Definitely,” Sam assured him. “I’m pretty sure you’re not part of the SGC until you’ve either been imprisoned, tortured, or subjected to a weird alien ritual.”

 

He laughed.

 

“Oh, I’m serious,” Sam protested.

 

“Too bad I haven’t been offered a job,” Jim said. “I’d have my initiation over with.”

 

“Haven’t you?” Sam countered, and then Jim heard her swallow. “Sorry. You didn’t hear me say that.”

 

Jim frowned. “Sandburg said they’d made the offer to him, but I didn’t think they’d want me until my sight was back.”

 

Sam sighed. “All I know is that General Hammond has put a few things in motion. I think he wants to make the pitch as soon as Janet clears you.”

 

“But you were the one to offer continued protection,” Jim objected. “I’m assuming that someone asked you to do that.”

 

Sam laughed. “You’re sharp.”

 

“It’s served me well,” Jim admitted. “Just because they screwed with my senses doesn’t mean my brain is off line. So?”

 

“General Hammond thought you might respond better to me,” she admitted.

 

“Well, Blair says you’re very attractive, but I’m not sure what that has to do with anything, since my eyesight is still shot.”

 

Jim thought he might actually be able to _feel_ the rising heat in Sam’s face, and that scared him. He’d thought he was sensitive before, but Jim was beginning to suspect that his senses were that much more acute now.

 

He’d had things under control before the NID kidnapped him; the idea that he might have to start over from scratch freaked him out.

 

Blair was going to want to run a bunch of tests to establish a new baseline, and Jim probably wouldn’t even protest all that much. He wanted control back.

 

Sam cleared her throat. “I was there when we got you out,” she finally said. “And if it wasn’t me, it would be Daniel. General Hammond doesn’t usually send Jack or Teal’c in when there’s any kind of finesse required.”

 

Jim chuckled. “I wanted to ask you about Teal’c, actually,” he said. “He’s—not human, is he?”

 

“No, he’s not,” Sam replied quietly. “He’s on our side, though. How did you know?”

 

Jim shrugged. “I can’t put my finger on it. It was almost like I was getting two heart beats from him.”

 

“Teal’c’s been a good friend to us,” Sam insisted

 

Jim sighed. “The guys that grabbed me were human,” he said softly. “What they did to me—maybe they thought they had a reason. I don’t know. But I _do_ know that Teal’c loaned me his jacket, and he’s been nothing but kind to me since I got here. I don’t care where he came from. I just wanted to be sure that I wasn’t going crazy.”

 

“You’re definitely not going crazy,” Sam assured him. “I’m just used to people getting worked up about Teal’c being an alien.”

 

“What? Wanting to dissect him?” Jim asked. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

 

“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” Sam replied. “And yeah, that’s been tried.”

 

Jim shifted uncomfortably, knowing that there probably wasn’t much that separated him from Teal’c. Maybe Teal’c was an alien, but it wasn’t too much of a leap to decide that Jim wasn’t worthy of protection because he was different when they’d already decided that they could do whatever they wanted to Teal’c.

 

“That’s not going to happen,” Sam insisted, as though sensing—or seeing—his discomfort, “not if we can help it.”

 

“But you can’t help it if we go back to Cascade, can you?” Jim asked.

 

Sam sighed. “No, we can’t.”

 

“Tell me something, Sam, and be honest with me.”

 

“If I can, I will,” she agreed.

 

“Do you think they’ll come after Blair?”

 

Jim could feel her hesitation, but he didn’t say anything. He just waited for her to respond, wondering if she’d tell him the truth, although he somehow knew that he’d be able to sense if she were lying.

 

“I think it’s entirely possible,” Sam finally replied. “This group seems to think that Blair might have some special abilities.”

 

“Yeah,” Jim said heavily. “That’s what I thought.”

 

And Jim would do whatever it took to keep Blair safe, even if it meant packing up and leaving Cascade.

 

~~~~~

 

Blair roused when he heard the insistent knocking on his door. He rolled out of bed, too sleepy to care that he was answering the door in boxers and a t-shirt. When he opened the door, he saw Jim standing there, a broad grin on his face.

 

“Jim?”

 

“Hey, Sandburg.”

 

The import of Jim standing there slowly didn’t immediately penetrate Blair’s sleep-fogged mind. “What time is it?”

 

“It’s a little after six,” he said, the grin never wavering.

 

Blair blinked. “Wait. Your eyesight?”

 

“Not completely back to normal, but a lot better,” Jim confessed.

 

Blair stepped aside and waved Jim in. “What do you mean, you’re not completely back to normal?”

 

“My eyesight is still a little fuzzy,” Jim admitted, and then joked, “Maybe I need glasses.”

 

Blair’s eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t think so. Sit down.”

 

Jim hesitated. “Janet said to see her if there were any changes.”

 

“We’ve got time for this,” Blair insisted. “And if I’m right, this is going to make her job a lot easier. So, sit.” When Jim still seemed reluctant, Blair asked, “Do you trust me?”

 

“I told you I did,” Jim said peevishly.

 

Blair put his hands on Jim’s shoulders and pushed him to sit on the bed. “Okay, so I know we haven’t talked about the report from those bastards who took you, but I have a couple of theories.”

 

Jim’s jaw tensed. “Go ahead.”

 

Blair sighed. Jim hadn’t wanted to talk about the report, or about the job offer. He kept saying that Blair could fill him in once his sight was back, and now here they were. Jim’s sight was back, and Blair had to explain what he’d gathered from the report.

 

“The NID—or whoever—wanted to isolate the gene that’s responsible for your senses,” Blair began. “And we think they’re interested in trying to trigger other people with the potential to come online. I think—I think as a part of their research they tried to make your senses sharper.”

 

“How does me going blind fit into it?” Jim demanded.

 

“I don’t think it does,” Blair admitted. “But I also think that was just a side effect. Right now, I think you’ve maybe lost your baseline. Where are your dials?”

 

For a minute, Blair didn’t think Jim would answer, and then he shrugged. “Maybe a four, but it’s hard to keep them there.”

 

“Okay, so I’m going to walk you through a meditation exercise, and we’re going to try to get a new baseline for your senses,” Blair said. “If I’m wrong, you should be really relaxed by the end of this. If I’m right, your sight should be back to normal.”

 

Jim shrugged good-naturedly. “Let’s do it, then.”

 

By this point, Jim was an old hand at the meditation exercises, and Blair easily talked him into a light trance. “Okay, we’re going to start with touch,” Blair said. “I know this is going to be uncomfortable, but I want you to dial all the way up. That’s right, Jim. All the way up, until the dial is set at ten. I’m going to be right here the whole time. If you get too uncomfortable, all you have to do is dial down.”

 

Jim stiffened, and then said in a distant voice, “I can feel each thread in the fabric against my skin. I can feel—air currents, your breath, _everything_.”

 

“Good,” Blair said. “Now, dial it back slowly. Down, down, until you’re at a normal level. Where’s the dial, Jim?”

 

“Three.”

 

“Good,” Blair said. “We’re going to go to smell next.”

 

Blair walked him through each of his other senses, saving sight for last. “Okay, Jim, you’re going to need to open your eyes for this one. I want you to open your eyes, and then I want you to dial up your sight, all the way up.”

 

He heard Jim’s sharp intake of breath and couldn’t help asking, “What do you see?”

 

“Dust motes in the air,” Jim said, sounding almost drugged. “The pulse in your neck. The pores in your skin. I think—I think I can see your skin cells.”

 

Blair swallowed. “That’s great, Jim. Now, I want you to close your eyes and dial your sight back until it’s normal range. Take it back to a three.”

 

When Jim nodded, Blair let out a breath. “Great. When you open your eyes, you’re going to be well rested and in a really good mood.”

 

Jim let out a breath. “I think trying to hypnotize me into a better mood is cheating.”

 

Blair grinned. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. How do you feel?”

 

“Good,” Jim admitted. “My eyesight is back to normal.”

 

Blair couldn’t find it in himself to be pleased by that news. “Jim—”

 

“Why couldn’t they have taken the senses away?” Jim demanded. “If they were going to fuck with things, why would they do _this_?”

 

Blair couldn’t think of any response, so he held his tongue.

 

“I hate this,” Jim said. “Ever since they grabbed me, the dials have been hard to control. Even now, it’s—it’s difficult. I feel like I’m going to zone or spike all the time.”

 

Blair winced. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Not your fault,” Jim replied. “Look, I should really see the doctor. Will I see you for breakfast?”

 

“I’ll be there,” Blair promised.

 

Jim rose to his feet. “Thanks.”

 

“Don’t mention it.” Jim had his hand on the doorknob when Blair found the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing him for the last couple of days. “Jim? What about the job offer?”

 

Jim let out a breath. “I don’t know yet. I won’t make a decision without you.”

 

“Okay,” Blair replied, knowing that he couldn’t ask for more than that.

 

There was a part of him that wanted nothing more than for Jim to agree to Hammond’s job offer. The idea that he could go back to anthropology, get his doctorate, and _still_ be Jim’s partner was incredibly seductive.

 

And yet, Blair couldn’t see Jim leaving Cascade, and Blair knew he could never ask.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack arrived at the SGC to find an urgent message from General Hammond, and he quickly changed into his uniform and headed for Hammond’s office. He knocked on the door perfunctorily and entered when Hammond waved at him. “Have a seat, Jack,” Hammond said. “Detective Ellison should be joining us shortly.”

 

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Do we have an update, sir?”

 

“Dr. Frasier let me know that Ellison’s sight is back to normal. She says it will take time for the drugs to completely leave his system, but he’ll be cleared for duty soon.”

 

“Which means he’ll be going home.”

 

“We haven’t determined that,” Hammond replied. “I haven’t made the offer to Ellison.”

 

“I assume that’s what you called me in here for, sir,” Jack said carefully.

 

Hammond nodded. “Dr. Frasier told Ellison to come to my office as soon as he finishes breakfast. I expect him any minute now.”

 

Jack leaned back in his chair. “Did you get authorization to bump up his grade?”

 

“Quite frankly, the President wants to keep Ellison’s skills within the SGC, and he doesn’t want it getting out that we have a rogue element going around kidnapping American citizens willy-nilly.” Hammond looked about as grave as Jack had ever seen him. “I can’t say as I blame him. If the media were to get wind of this—a decorated Army Ranger, and police detective, being experimented on by his own government?”

 

Jack grimaced. “It would be bad. I take it that the President wants to buy his silence.”

 

“Not in so many words, but yes.” Hammond shook his head. “On the other hand, this has underscored just how imperative it is to run down these people and bring them to justice.”

 

He fell silent as a knock came on the door. Ellison hovered in the doorway, dressed in green fatigues, already looking every inch the soldier. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

 

“Come on in, Detective,” Hammond said. “And, please, have a seat.”

 

Ellison cast a wary look at Jack, but he sat down in the second chair across from Hammond’s desk. “I assume this is about the job offer you made Sandburg, General.”

 

“Partially,” Hammond replied. “But it’s more about the offer we want to make you.”

 

Ellison sat ramrod straight. “No offense, sir, but while I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, I’m not sure what would ever compel me to work for the government again.”

 

“You work for the city of Cascade now,” Jack felt compelled to point out. “So, technically, you still work for the government.”

 

The flicker of a smile made its way to Ellison’s face. “You have a point, Colonel, but I trust my captain.”

 

“If it makes you feel any better, you would be working for the SGC, and you’d be under my command,” Hammond said.

 

Ellison hitched a shoulder. “That makes me feel a little better,” he admitted. “I’m a little old for a captain’s rank, though.”

 

“You’d be given the rank of major, with a possibility for promotion in one year,” Hammond countered.

 

Ellison’s cool façade cracked a bit. “That’s generous. What’s the catch?”

 

“You sign a nondisclosure agreement promising not to reveal anything about the SGC or your experiences at the hands of the NID,” Hammond replied.

 

Ellison barked out a short, bitter laugh. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir, whether or not I take the job. I have no desire to be back in the middle of a media circus. If the press hears about this, they’ll figure out I’m a Sentinel.”

 

“How are you going to explain your disappearance?” Jack asked.

 

Ellison suddenly slumped back in his chair. “I have no idea. I was kind of hoping that everybody would be so glad to have me back that they wouldn’t ask a lot of questions.”

 

Jack smirked. “You were Cop of the Year. Twice. They’re going to ask questions.”

 

Ellison looked so disconsolate that Jack felt a certain sympathy. The man had been through hell, and now he was facing the prospect of not being able to go home. Jack wouldn’t be happy in Ellison’s shoes.

 

“What would I be doing?” he asked wearily.

 

Hammond pulled out their ace in the hole in the form of a stack of mission reports, each one representing a situation where someone of Ellison’s capabilities might have made a difference. “Last month, we lost three men to a mining accident off-world because we couldn’t find them in time. We think you might have been able to find them when the equipment malfunctioned. Every time we send a team through the gate, we risk running up against Jaffa and Goa’uld. Being able to sense them coming would be a help.”

 

Ellison took the stack of reports, his expression unreadable. “Can I have a day to think about this?”

 

“You can have two,” Hammond replied, placing another file on top of the stack of reports. “That’s our offer, in writing.”

 

Ellison took a deep breath. “You can’t protect us if we go back to Cascade.”

 

“No, son, we can’t,” Hammond said gently.

 

Ellison nodded. “And Sandburg can get his doctorate?”

 

“His dissertation will be deemed classified. He’ll be given an opportunity to defend it in front of those who have security clearance,” Hammond said quietly. “And if he’s successful, he’ll have a doctorate from an accredited university.”

 

Ellison smiled. “And you’d hire him to do anthropology.”

 

“We always have need for people with Mr. Sandburg’s skills,” Hammond replied.

 

“Can I take these, sir?” Ellison asked.

 

“You can’t take them off the base, but yes, you may take them,” Hammond said.

 

“I’d like to discuss things with my partner.”

 

“Of course. You do whatever you need to do,” Hammond said. “You can check out a fleet vehicle if you’d like. Just be sure to check out when you leave the base.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Ellison said, and then left.

 

Hammond waited until Ellison was gone before he asked, “Do you think he’ll take the offer, Jack?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Jack replied. “But I think he’ll take it for Sandburg’s sake and not his own.”

 

~~~~~

 

Jim turned up outside of Daniel’s lab and hovered in the doorway, waiting for them to notice his presence. Blair had his hair pulled back and his glasses on, and he was bent over an artifact, shoulder-to-shoulder with Daniel. From what Jim had seen, the two of them were kindred spirits, and Jim knew he was getting a glimpse of what Blair’s life could be if he took Hammond’s offer.

 

Blair could be happy here, Jim thought. Maybe he was happy with the PD, too. He was certainly a good cop.

 

When Blair glanced up, he grinned when he caught sight of Jim in the doorway. “Hey. How’d the meeting go?”

 

Jim shrugged. “Good. Do you have a little time? I’d kind of like to go for a walk.”

 

Blair looked over at Daniel, who smiled. “Go ahead. It’s almost lunch time anyway.”

 

Jim waited until they were in the elevator before he said, “The general gave us permission to leave the base, but I’m not sure I want to risk it just yet.”

 

“No, I get that,” Blair assured him. “We’ll just go for a little stroll.”

 

They strolled along the corridors of the complex, and Jim said in a low voice. “I haven’t seen the sun in months, but there’s no way I’m going out without being armed.”

 

Blair winced. “I’m sorry, man. You know, I’ve got my service weapon. We could—”

 

“No,” Jim said. “Is there—is there anywhere private?”

 

“Your quarters or mine?”

 

Jim didn’t like the idea of being cooped up, but he didn’t see that he had a lot of other choices at the moment. “Mine. That’s where I’ve got the files.”

 

Blair didn’t ask any questions. He just followed Jim back to his quarters where the stack of reports was scattered over his bed, along with the offer from the SGC. Jim wasn’t surprised when Blair zeroed in on the offer. “I see you got one of those.”

 

“Yeah. They offered to bump up my grade to major, effective immediately, and they’d make me eligible for a promotion in a year.”

 

Blair whistled appreciatively. “Not too bad. They’d probably hire you as a civilian contractor if you bucked for it if that’s not what you want, though.”

 

Jim shook his head. “No, if I’m going to stay, I’ll reactivate my commission. General Hammond—he seems like a quality leader.”

 

“I think he is,” Blair agreed quietly. “What do you want to do, Jim?”

 

Jim shook his head. “No. I want you to tell me what you want.”

 

“Jim, you deserve to have a say in this, too,” Blair protested.

 

“I don’t know what I want,” Jim said baldly. “I want to go back to Cascade. I want to go back to my _life_. But I also want you to be safe, and I want you to get your doctorate. So, you tell me what _you_ want.” Jim frowned when Blair refused to meet his eyes. “Blair—”

 

Blair sighed. “You’ve had a lot taken away from you, man. I’m not going to be the guy that makes a decision that means you lose everything else.”

 

“Chief, you’re not deciding anything. We decide together, just like we talked about. But I _need_ to know what you want.”

 

“I want this,” Blair said softly. “God, Jim, the opportunities here! Staying means the chance to visit alien cultures, to learn new languages and study—everything. So many things.”

 

“It means getting your doctorate,” Jim said softly.

 

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Blair admitted. “But if you say you want to go back to Cascade, put all this behind us, and just be cops—that’s what we’ll do.”

 

Jim shook his head. “We’ll— _I’ll_ always wonder, though.”

 

“We’ll wonder if we stay, too,” Blair countered. “You can do a lot of good as a detective, Jim. We both can. That’s why I accepted the badge in the first place.”

 

Jim looked at the reports scattered on the bed. “There’s a lot we can do here. I don’t know.” He met Blair’s eyes, reading his expression easily in the dim light from the lamp they’d turned on. There was uncertainty, even fear, but there was also a spark of new discovery, something Jim hadn’t seen for far too long.

 

There was no guarantee that they would be safe if they stayed with the SGC, of course. They seemed destined to have dangerous jobs. Blair would say that Jim was compelled to protect the tribe, but mostly Jim just wanted to protect _Blair._

 

And if that meant packing up and moving to Colorado Springs, starting all over again—well, it was no less than what Blair had done for him.

 

“General Hammond said he’d give me a couple of days,” Jim said quietly. “But I think I’m ready to give him my answer now.”

 

“Man, I’m sorry,” Blair said, sounding miserable. “This sucks.”

 

“I’ll live,” Jim said dryly. “Which is more than I could have said a few days ago.”

 

Blair looked stricken. “ _Not_ funny.”

 

Jim sighed. “No, not really.”

 

“We’re going to have to tell Simon.” Blair rubbed his eyes. “Seriously, this is going to _suck_.”

 

“Simon will deal with it,” Jim replied. “Especially if we tell him this is the only way we can be sure we’re protected.”

 

“Which would be true.” Blair gave him an impish smile that wasn’t quite as bright as usual. “Not it.”

 

“Coward,” Jim accused.

 

Blair shrugged. “Shoot me.”

 

“Not even on a bet,” Jim replied. “I’m going to read these reports first. Then I’ll call Simon and let him know. We’ll still need to go back to Cascade, pack everything up. I’d prefer to rent out the loft, instead of selling it.”

 

Blair stared at him. “You’ve already got a plan?”

 

Jim hesitated, and then admitted, “I’ve had a plan since your press conference. I thought—I _knew_ there might be people who wouldn’t believe you.”

 

“How extensive is this plan?” Blair demanded.

 

“I gave Simon power of attorney if we both went missing,” Jim said. “After a month, he was supposed to rent out our place and route the money to an offshore account. Dividends from the stocks Dad gave me are routed there as well, and…”

 

When Jim trailed off, Blair demanded, “No, tell me all of it, Jim.”

 

“I have a trust,” Jim said in a rush. “I haven’t touched it because—I don’t know.”

 

“Because you’re a stubborn bastard?” Blair suggested.

 

“Yeah, that too.” He shrugged. “I have a couple of accounts. I was going to tell you, but things seemed to be okay, and I didn’t want to freak you out. Your name’s on the accounts,” he added as an afterthought. “Dad was supposed to contact you with the information if I was gone for more than three months.”

 

Blair shook his head. “Man, I knew you were anal, but this is something else.”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Jim said. “I just—it never seemed like the right time, and I hoped—I hoped it wouldn’t happen.”

 

“Yeah, I get that.” Blair scrubbed his hands over his face. “Did you say anything to Simon?”

 

“I left instructions with my attorney to give to Simon,” Jim said. “I didn’t want to worry him, either, and you know Simon.”

 

“Yeah, I do.” Blair reached out and put his hand on Jim’s arm. “If you want to go back to Cascade, we’ll find a way to make it work. We’ll stay sharp, and we’ll make sure they don’t get to us.”

 

“No one can make that guarantee,” Jim said quietly. “And there’s no way I’m going to risk you.”

 

Blair shook his head. “I don’t want you to give up who you are.”

 

“Blair,” Jim said gently. “I don’t _know_ who I am right now.”

 

Jim thought it might be a long time before he did.

 

~~~~~

 

Sam spotted Jim and Blair across the commissary. They were seated side by side with a stack of reports between them, and she figured she was better off not interrupting.

 

By the time she’d grabbed lunch, however, most of the tables were occupied, and Blair waved her over from across the crowded room. She gave a mental shrug and sat down across from Jim. “Hey, guys.”

 

“Hey, Sam,” Blair said readily. “It’s busy in here today.”

 

“We had a couple of teams coming back this morning, and another set leaving this afternoon,” she explained.

 

She caught Jim’s eye, and was charmed by his sweet grin. “It’s good to finally put a face to the voice,” he said.

 

Blair elbowed him, and Sam was well enough versed in guy-speak to read the gesture as an “I told you so.”

 

“I had heard you were pretty much back to normal,” Sam replied.

 

Blair smirked and opened his mouth, probably to make a smartass remark of some kind, and then seemed to think better of it. Jim winced and said, “I’m doing a lot better.”

 

Sam glanced at Blair, who gave a quick shake of his head. “What are you working on?” she asked, deciding that a change in subject was in order.

 

“We’re reading mission reports that General Hammond and Colonel O’Neill gave me,” Jim explained.

 

“Job offer?”

 

“Job offer,” Jim confirmed.

 

Blair grinned. “They said they’d make Jim a major.”

 

“He’d have the rank if he’d stayed in the service,” Sam said. “So, really, it only makes sense. If you stay with the SGC, you’ll probably make colonel without too much trouble.”

 

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Do you go through officers that quickly?”

 

“Pretty much every gate team is led by a light colonel or a full bird,” Sam replied. “And we’ve got some off world mining operations where the same is true. We tend to take the best of the best from the Academy, so we tend to have plenty of young officers.”

 

Jim raised an eyebrow. “And you lose a lot.”

 

“We have dangerous jobs,” Sam hedged. “But we try not to lose anybody.” She nodded at the stack of reports. “I imagine that’s what those are about.”

 

Jim drummed his fingers on the stack. “General Hammond seems to think I— _we_ can make a difference.” His eyes darted to Blair, and Sam could see the wordless apology in his eyes.

 

Sam frowned. “Do you want my honest opinion?”

 

Jim nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

 

“Then, yes, I think you could make a difference here,” Sam replied. “But I think you probably make a difference in Cascade, too.”

 

Jim smiled. “Great. Think I’m going to grab a piece of pie, Sandburg. Do you want one?”

 

“No thanks,” Blair replied.

 

Jim made his way through the crowded commissary, and Sam looked at Blair. “So, what was that about earlier?”

 

Blair winced. “I’m pretty sure Jim knew I was about to make a crack about him not being anywhere near normal, which is a touchy subject at the best of times.”

 

“And this isn’t the best of times,” Sam supplied.

 

“Not even remotely,” Blair confirmed.

 

Sam gave Blair a sharp look. “How are _you_?”

 

“I’ve just been offered everything I wanted most on a silver platter, but in order to get it, Jim has to give up almost everything that _he_ wants.” Blair shook his head. “It’s not fair.”

 

“I told you. What I want most is for you to be safe,” Jim said, sliding back into his seat, a piece of pecan pie in front of him. “And it’s not much of a life if we’re always looking over our shoulders.” He shrugged. “Besides, it might be nice to actually be able to use my senses without hiding them.”

 

Blair’s expression was skeptical. “Uh huh.”

 

“Give it up, Chief,” Jim insisted. “I’ve already made my decision, and you’ve already said that you want this.”

 

Sam felt a flare of hope. She liked Jim—a lot—and having him stick around could only be a good thing. “So, you’re staying?”

 

Jim nodded. “Looks like. We’ll have to put our affairs in order in Cascade, and Simon’s probably not going to want to let us go without at least two weeks’ notice, but this seems like the best option.”

 

He froze, his head tilting to the side.

 

“What is it, Jim?” Blair asked.

 

Jim shook his head. “Just the gate alarm.”

 

Sam raised her eyebrows. “You can tell that from here?”

 

“It’s—SG-5,” Jim said after a moment. “They’re in one piece, but—covered in mud?”

 

Sam couldn’t help but be impressed. “You can hear all that?”

 

“I can hear a lot,” Jim said, his expression cold. But then that same sweet grin crossed his face, and he added, “I don’t get to show off very often.”

 

Sam grinned and glanced over at Blair, who was watching Jim with an indulgent, proud smile.

 

Jim shook himself. “Gotta be careful with that,” he muttered. “Too easy to zone.”

 

“Not with me right here,” Blair assured him. “I’ve got your back.”

 

Jim nodded and started in on his pie. “I guess you do.” He met Sam’s eyes. “But when we get back, I wouldn’t mind trying out that bike you were telling me about.”

 

Sam grinned. “I’ll look forward to it.”

 

~~~~~

 

In the end, Dr. Frasier released Jim to return to Cascade just a few days after his sight returned. Blair knew that Jim had been in contact with Simon, but he had no idea what Jim had said to him. General Hammond sent them back to Cascade with a military escort, and the promise of protection.

 

“You won’t see us, but we’ll be there,” General Hammond had said.

 

Hammond appeared to be keeping his promise, because not only did they take the SGC’s jet back to Cascade, but there was a government SUV waiting for them.

 

“You know, I could get used to this,” Blair said, relaxing back into leather seat.

 

“Don’t,” Jim said dryly. “Once we’re back in Colorado Springs, we aren’t going to get this kind of treatment.”

 

“I’m aware of that,” Blair protested. “I’m not getting used to it. I’m just saying that it would be nice.”

 

Jim smiled. “It would be nice, I’ll give you that.”

 

“Have you told Simon yet?” Blair asked.

 

“I hinted,” Jim said defensively. “I told him we probably wouldn’t be safe in Cascade.”

 

Blair laughed. “That’s not a hint, Jim.”

 

“I thought I’d do Simon the courtesy of saying it to his face,” Jim replied, closing his eyes.

 

“We’re going home first?” Blair asked. He hadn’t asked until now because he’d wanted to give Jim as much control as he could.

 

“Simon is going to meet us there,” Jim confirmed.

 

Blair sighed. “You can still change your mind.”

 

“I’m not going to,” Jim replied evenly. “I told you already.”

 

“Yeah, but maybe you’ve changed your mind now that we’re back in your own territory,” Blair countered. “Maybe you’ll decide to stay here.”

 

“Are you accusing me of being wishy-washy?”

 

“Never, man,” Blair said immediately. “I just—if you wanted to stay, I’d understand.”

 

“Do you want to stay?” Jim countered.

 

“I don’t know.” Blair sighed. “We’ve—we’re good here, aren’t we?”

 

“Yeah, we’re good,” Jim insisted. “Simon will understand, Blair. Eventually.”

 

Blair snorted. “He’s going to blame me.”

 

“Not when I explain it,” Jim said. “We talked about this. It’s an opportunity you can’t pass up, and I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder for as long as it takes the government to find the bad apples.”

 

Blair subsided. When Jim made up his mind, there was no changing it, especially when he was being motivated by a combination of fear and guilt.

 

The fear was natural; Jim had been through hell and then some over the last few months, and he naturally didn’t want the same thing to happen again, or to happen to Blair. The guilt—well, Blair knew that Jim still thought it was his fault that Blair had to scuttle his academic career, and Jim had a habit of self-sacrifice.

 

The SUV pulled up in front of their building, and the driver twisted around. “Do you have the contact information, sir?”

 

“I do,” Jim said. “Thank you for the ride, airman.”

 

“Not a problem, Major Ellison. Have a good vacation.”

 

Jim smiled but didn’t bother to correct him. “You got your keys, Sandburg?”

 

“Right here, man,” Blair replied, holding up his keys. “I just have to get my bag.”

 

He had his duffel, but Jim didn’t have anything but the clothes on his back. The NID had apparently destroyed Jim’s personal effects; a search of the lab hadn’t turned up anything Jim had with him when he’d been kidnapped. Jim had been wearing a uniform all week, but ever since he’d accepted Hammond’s offers, his uniforms sported a major’s insignia and his last name.

 

Blair unlocked the door, wrinkling his nose at the musty odor. “I hate that smell,” he complained.

 

Jim shrugged. “Open up the balcony doors. We’ll air the place out for a little while, if you don’t mind the cold.”

 

“I’ll see if I can find some candles, too,” Blair said. “I have a couple that won’t aggravate your allergies.”

 

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to grab a shower and get into civvies,” Jim said.

 

“No, man, go ahead.”

 

The breeze coming in through the balcony doors was unusually warm for early spring in Cascade, and the sun shone brightly. Blair stood by the doors and looked out at the harbor, and the familiar horizon. The loft had been the first place he’d ever felt truly at home, and he didn’t want to give that up.

 

He sighed, knowing that while neither of them wanted to leave Cascade, they would, but only because it was the only way to ensure the other’s safety.

 

There was a brief knock on the door, and Blair glanced through the peephole to see Simon.

 

“Hey, Simon.” Blair waved him inside. “Thanks for looking after the place while we were gone.”

 

“I was happy to help,” Simon replied. “How is he?”

 

“He’s in the shower,” Blair said. “I think he was ready to get back into his own clothes.”

 

Simon raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t take him a change of clothing?”

 

“I had a lot on my mind!” Blair defended. “I didn’t think about it.”

 

“It’s fine, Sandburg,” Jim said, emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, fully dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt. “No harm done. Hey, Simon.”

 

Blair hadn’t been sure what Simon’s reaction was going to be—would Simon shake Jim’s hand, or give him a hug?

 

His question was answered soon enough. Simon closed the distance between him and Jim in two long strides and pulled Jim into a bear hug.

 

After a moment, Jim returned the embrace, holding on to Simon tightly. Blair had to look away, blinking away the moisture in his own eyes.

 

“It’s good to see you,” Jim said as Simon pulled back.

 

Simon looked him up and down, and Blair knew he was noting the way Jim’s clothing hung just a little too loose, the new lines in his face, the gray in his hair. “Welcome back,” Simon finally said.

 

“It’s good to be back,” Jim said after a brief hesitation.

 

Blair wasn’t sure that anyone else would have noticed it, but Simon hadn’t been made captain of Major Crimes without good reason. “You’re not coming back, are you?” he asked.

 

Jim sighed. “We aren’t sure they won’t come after us again,” he replied. “The SGC can offer us protection.”

 

Simon grimaced. “I suspected as much. Are you two hungry? My treat.”

 

“That would be great,” Blair said immediately.

 

Jim nodded, looking a little reluctant, but Blair knew that was because he was seriously paranoid at the moment. It was like he didn’t want to go out in public. Blair had actually been surprised when Jim hadn’t been interested on getting out of the mountain, almost like he hadn’t wanted to leave the security that a couple of hundred armed soldiers provided.

 

“I’ll call up the others,” Simon said. “They’ll want to see you, too.”

 

“That would be great.” Jim’s smile actually reached his eyes. “I’d like that.”

 

Blair almost believed it.

 

~~~~~

 

Jim figured it was probably going to take a long time before he felt safe being out in public, even when he was surrounded by cops. Blair seemed to know that instinctively, because he’d had a quick word with the hostess at the steakhouse, and made sure they got a table in a corner, so that Jim could put his back to the wall.

 

Still, he was enjoying being out with friends, and the very large steak he’d ordered. Blair hadn’t even made a smart remark about Jim’s red meat intake. Jim was torn between wanting to milk that as long as he could, and wanting things to go back to normal.

 

Not that things would be normal any time soon, although Jim suspected Blair would start nagging him again as soon as Jim put on the weight he’d lost.

 

“Did Blair tell you about his big narcotics bust?” H asked with a grin.

 

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Narcotics? Chief, is there something you forgot to tell me?”

 

Blair stammered a bit. “It wasn’t a big deal. I just helped them out. For a few days.”

 

“And helped make one of the biggest coke busts in the last three years,” Simon said. “Go ahead, Sandburg. Tell him.”

 

Blair blushed, and Jim grinned, although he felt a pang. Apparently, Blair had been doing just fine at the PD in Jim’s absence. Although Blair tried to downplay his role in the bust—involving several hundred kilos of cocaine—H, Simon, Rafe, and Connor refused to let him get away with it. It turned out that Blair’s connections at Rainier, his skills in spotting patterns, and his fast-talking had managed to bust up a drug pipeline that Narcotics hadn’t been able to pinpoint, even after months of work.

 

“And Sandburg just waltzes in and nails the head honcho!” H crowed.

 

Jim smiled, knowing that Blair’s prowess reflected well on Major Crimes as a whole, as well as putting to rest complaints that Blair didn’t deserve the badge.

 

“I didn’t waltz!” Blair protested. “They asked me to help out since I still know people at the university.”

 

“Take the compliment, Sandburg,” Simon ordered.

 

Blair shifted, finally saying, “It was nice to show that asshole Marsh a thing or two.”

 

Jim laughed, because he knew Detective Marsh, and the guy _was_ a grade-A asshole. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to see it.”

 

Blair winced. “Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

 

The silence that fell was uncomfortable, and Jim braced himself for the questions that were sure to come. His co-workers had held off until now, but they were all detectives, and they wanted to know what happened.

 

“Jim?” Joel prompted. “Can you tell us what happened?”

 

Trust Joel to be the one smart enough and sensitive enough to ask the question in just that way. “No, I can’t,” Jim admitted. “I agreed I wouldn’t.”

 

“Agreed? With who?” Megan asked. “You disappear off the face of the planet, and come back looking like—” She stopped. “What happened?”

 

Jim didn’t have an answer for her, but he knew he had to give them something. “Not everyone believed Blair’s press conference,” he said, knowing he was fast approaching the line. “And everything else is classified.”

 

“Classified,” H echoed. “What the hell, Jim?”

 

Jim kept his eyes on the table. He didn’t need to see the expressions of pity they wore. “Let’s just say it wasn’t fun,” he finally said.

 

“When are you coming back to work?” Joel asked.

 

Jim finally looked up. “I’m not.”

 

Blair slid back into his seat next to Jim, looking a little pale. “Neither of us are coming back,” he added. “We can’t. It’s not safe.”

 

“What are you going to do?” Megan demanded.

 

Jim shrugged. “I re-upped as a major, and they’re going to work it out so that Blair can get his Ph.D.”

 

“And in return?” Simon asked shrewdly.

 

Jim shrugged. “We get protection.”

 

“And you don’t talk about what happened,” Simon said.

 

“It was a good deal,” Blair insisted. “And these are good people. Maybe once we catch whoever’s behind this…”

 

Jim risked a glance around the table, seeing identical expressions of disbelief and dismay on all their faces. “We don’t want to leave you in the lurch,” he began apologetically. “We don’t want to leave at all.”

 

“Then don’t,” Joel protested. “We can protect you.”

 

“No, we can’t,” Simon said quietly. “Can these people really keep their promises, Jim?”

 

Jim nodded. “I think they can. They found me, and they got me out—with a lot of help from Blair. I won’t go back there again. I can’t.”

 

The party broke up soon after that. Jim could tell that no one knew quite what to say to him or Blair. He could tell they felt betrayed, but Jim wasn’t willing to share more details about his time in captivity to get his point across.

 

Simon drove them back to the loft and followed Jim and Blair up to their place when Jim invited him for a nightcap.

 

“I really am sorry, Simon,” Jim said miserably.

 

“How bad was it, Jim?” he asked.

 

Jim shrugged. “About as bad as you can imagine. I didn’t make this decision lightly.”

 

“I know you didn’t,” Simon replied heavily. “I hate losing you, but I know there’s no way we can protect you both long term. We don’t have the budget, and you know as well as I do that you can’t maintain a heightened state of alert forever.”

 

Blair brought over three glasses of whiskey and passed them out. “We’d stay if we could.”

 

“I know that,” Simon replied. “You’ll keep in touch?”

 

“You could come visit,” Jim countered. “It’s Colorado Springs, not the other side of the world. I hear they have good fishing.”

 

“I’m going to take you up on that,” Simon said.

 

They talked idly for the next few hours—about Daryl, and the station, and other minor matters. Simon refused a second drink and said, “I should get going. How soon do you have to be back in Colorado?”

 

“Two weeks,” Blair replied. “Although General Hammond told Jim he could take up to a month. They won’t start the next orientation class until the beginning of next month anyway.”

 

Simon nodded. “Let me know if you two need any help moving.”

 

“Will do,” Jim promised, and walked him to the door.

 

The silence Simon left behind seemed all too loud to Jim, and he looked at Blair helplessly. “Dammit, Blair. I’m sorry.”

 

“Sorry for what?”

 

“You’re still one of the best cops I’ve ever known,” Jim said. “Tonight just proved it. You could—”

 

“I could what?” Blair demanded, interrupting him. “I could stay? Yeah, I could. So could you. And then we spend the next however long until they try again. Maybe they succeed, maybe they don’t. Maybe next time, we find the assholes in charge, and we chuck them into a deep, dark hole—deeper and darker than the one they held you in.”

 

At this point, Jim didn’t have any secrets, not from Blair. “I can’t go back, and I can’t stand the thought of you in that place.”

 

“That makes two of us,” Blair shot back. “What do you think it did to me to find out what they’d done to you, huh? They used you like a lab rat, like what you accused me of doing!”

 

“You have nothing in common with them,” Jim said furiously. “What you did—you were _helping_ me! You _did_ help me!”

 

Blair ran his hands through his hair. “I hate this.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Jim replied quietly. He looked out the balcony doors, his eyes on the horizon. He’d miss this view.

 

“It’s our only choice,” Blair insisted. “And you’ll rent this place out. Maybe you’ll come back someday.”

 

Jim swallowed. “It’s _our_ place. If we come back, we’ll do it together.”

 

“And when we’re in Colorado Springs?” Blair asked quietly. “Do you—I mean, I suppose you’ll want your own place.”

 

“I don’t,” Jim said immediately. “I _don’t_. I—” He fell silent, unable to explain. If Blair was close, his senses were easier to control, and Jim would know that Blair was safe.

 

“Okay,” Blair said. “I just wondered. I thought you might appreciate the opportunity to finally get rid of me.”

 

“No.” Jim took a deep breath. “Please.”

 

Blair’s eyes grew concerned. “Hey, no, man. Whatever you need. I wouldn’t mind sharing expenses again, and you’re the best roommate I’ve ever had—and I’ve had a lot of roommates.”

 

“Thanks,” Jim said gruffly. “Thank you.”

 

“Don’t _ever_ thank me for being your friend, Jim,” Blair said hotly. “And while we might be making plenty of money at the SGC, I don’t mind saving half the rent.”

 

“A mortgage,” Jim insisted. “With both our names on the title.”

 

Blair laughed. “Won’t that be something. Naomi’s son owning property.”

 

“You okay with that?” Jim asked.

 

“More than,” Blair assured him. “I figured out a while ago that this partnership was for—well, it was long term.”

 

“Very long term,” Jim replied. “Maybe for always, Chief.”

 

And Blair’s bright, sweet smile was all the confirmation Jim needed.


End file.
